dashed by a telephone call that came for him in the middle of dinner. Sir Humphrey passed a severe stricture upon people who invariably rang up during a meal because they were "sure of finding one in, and inquired testily of his butler who it was and why he could not give a message.
Upon hearing that his call came from Basil Fountain, Mr. Amberley, who had heartily endorsed his uncle's views, said that he would answer it. He returned to the dining room a few moments later and replied in answer to Felicity's inquiry that Fountain wanted him to motor over to the manor after dinner.
"Whatever for?" said Felicity.
"Apparently," said Amberley, helping himself to salad, "he has remembered a valuable piece of evidence."
"Did he ask me to come too?"
"He did not."
"Swab!" said Felicity, without heat.
When Amberley arrived at Norton Manor it was about half-past nine and a beautifully clear night. The manor was bathed in moonlight, with sharp black shadows thrown out along the ground. The house looked unfriendly, for the curtains were closely drawn and no welcoming light shone from any window.
Amberley was admitted by Collins and conducted to the library at the side of the house. He found his host alone, awaiting him.
Fountain apologised for dragging him out at this hour, but said in excuse that he had only heard from the chief constable that afternoon that he had taken the case on. It appeared that there was something he thought Amberley ought to know about the deceased butler.
He broke off as Collins came back into the room with the coffee-tray and waited while the valet offered this to Amberley. But he did not, for once, seem to mind Collins' hearing what he had to say, for he added, as he lifted the big globe-like liqueur glass, from the tray: "I've been speaking to Collins about what I'm going to tell you, but unfortunately he can't help us much. I rather hoped he might have known more than I do. But he tells me Dawson seldom mentioned his affairs in the servants' hall."
Amberley glanced towards the valet's impassive countenance. "Did he give you the impression that he had anything to hide?"
Collins answered in his smooth, expressionless voice: "No, sir. But I fear I did not consider the matter. We were not very friendly."
"When you say that you were not very friendly do you mean that you disliked one another?"
"Oh dear me, no, sir, nothing of that kind," replied Collins. "If there had ever been unpleasantness I could not have remained in service at the manor."
Amberley transferred his gaze to the fireplace. After; i moment Collins said politely: "Will there be anything further, sir?"
"No, that's all," said Fountain. He waited till the mai > had gone and then remarked that he had managed to find a butler to take Dawson's place.
"Really? I heard you had gone to town to intervue one. Satisfactory?"
"Seems all right," said Fountain. "He had a very good reference, though I'd have preferred to have had a word over the phone with his late employers. Unfortunately the man's gone to America. He gave Baker - that's the butler - a chit, but one never knows with these references that servants hand you themselves. However, he was willing to come at once, so I decided to give him a trial. Been out of work for a month or two on account of his health. Hope he won't turn out to be a crook." He held out an open box of cigars, but remembering that his guest did not smoke them, looked round for the cigarettes.
Amberley shook his head, and produced a pipe and began to fill it. "What was it you were going to tell me?" he asked.
The story was rather an odd one. The incident had occurred two years before, when Fountain succeeded his uncle. He had known when he took over the house and the existing staff that the servants had each one whole day off a month, in addition to their various half-days. The arrangement had seemed to him a fair one; in any case he did not wish to make any changes in the rules of the house. Dawson alone of them
Upon hearing that his call came from Basil Fountain, Mr. Amberley, who had heartily endorsed his uncle's views, said that he would answer it. He returned to the dining room a few moments later and replied in answer to Felicity's inquiry that Fountain wanted him to motor over to the manor after dinner.
"Whatever for?" said Felicity.
"Apparently," said Amberley, helping himself to salad, "he has remembered a valuable piece of evidence."
"Did he ask me to come too?"
"He did not."
"Swab!" said Felicity, without heat.
When Amberley arrived at Norton Manor it was about half-past nine and a beautifully clear night. The manor was bathed in moonlight, with sharp black shadows thrown out along the ground. The house looked unfriendly, for the curtains were closely drawn and no welcoming light shone from any window.
Amberley was admitted by Collins and conducted to the library at the side of the house. He found his host alone, awaiting him.
Fountain apologised for dragging him out at this hour, but said in excuse that he had only heard from the chief constable that afternoon that he had taken the case on. It appeared that there was something he thought Amberley ought to know about the deceased butler.
He broke off as Collins came back into the room with the coffee-tray and waited while the valet offered this to Amberley. But he did not, for once, seem to mind Collins' hearing what he had to say, for he added, as he lifted the big globe-like liqueur glass, from the tray: "I've been speaking to Collins about what I'm going to tell you, but unfortunately he can't help us much. I rather hoped he might have known more than I do. But he tells me Dawson seldom mentioned his affairs in the servants' hall."
Amberley glanced towards the valet's impassive countenance. "Did he give you the impression that he had anything to hide?"
Collins answered in his smooth, expressionless voice: "No, sir. But I fear I did not consider the matter. We were not very friendly."
"When you say that you were not very friendly do you mean that you disliked one another?"
"Oh dear me, no, sir, nothing of that kind," replied Collins. "If there had ever been unpleasantness I could not have remained in service at the manor."
Amberley transferred his gaze to the fireplace. After; i moment Collins said politely: "Will there be anything further, sir?"
"No, that's all," said Fountain. He waited till the mai > had gone and then remarked that he had managed to find a butler to take Dawson's place.
"Really? I heard you had gone to town to intervue one. Satisfactory?"
"Seems all right," said Fountain. "He had a very good reference, though I'd have preferred to have had a word over the phone with his late employers. Unfortunately the man's gone to America. He gave Baker - that's the butler - a chit, but one never knows with these references that servants hand you themselves. However, he was willing to come at once, so I decided to give him a trial. Been out of work for a month or two on account of his health. Hope he won't turn out to be a crook." He held out an open box of cigars, but remembering that his guest did not smoke them, looked round for the cigarettes.
Amberley shook his head, and produced a pipe and began to fill it. "What was it you were going to tell me?" he asked.
The story was rather an odd one. The incident had occurred two years before, when Fountain succeeded his uncle. He had known when he took over the house and the existing staff that the servants had each one whole day off a month, in addition to their various half-days. The arrangement had seemed to him a fair one; in any case he did not wish to make any changes in the rules of the house. Dawson alone of them
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