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an envelope； and from the envelope he extracted a letter； closely written
in a small； neat handwriting。
〃One of the Canon's numerous letters to Aunt Adelaide；〃 he
explained； 〃written a few days before his death。 Her memory was
already failing when she received it； and I daresay she forgot the
contents as soon as she had read it； otherwise； in the light of what
subsequently happened； we should have heard something of this letter
before now。 If it had been produced at the inquest I fancy it would
have made some difference in the course of affairs。 The evidence； as
you remarked just now； choked off suspicion against Sebastien by
disclosing an utter absence of anything that could be considered a
motive or provocation for the crime； if crime there was。〃
〃Oh； read the letter；〃 said Sir Lulworth impatiently。
〃It's a long rambling affair； like most of his letters in his later years；〃
said Egbert。 〃I'll read the part that bears immediately on the mystery。
〃 'I very much fear I shall have to get rid of Sebastien。 He cooks
divinely； but he has the temper of a fiend or an anthropoid ape； and I am
really in bodily fear of him。 We had a dispute the other day as to the
correct sort of lunch to be served on Ash Wednesday； and I got so
irritated and annoyed at his conceit and obstinacy that at last I threw a
cupful of coffee in his face and called him at the same time an impudent
jackanapes。 Very little of the coffee went actually in his face； but I
have never seen a human being show such deplorable lack of self…
control。 I laughed at the threat of killing me that he spluttered out in
his rage； and thought the whole thing would blow over； but I have
several times since caught him scowling and muttering in a highly
unpleasant fashion； and lately I have fancied that he was dogging my
footsteps about the grounds； particularly when I walk of an evening in
the Italian Garden。'
〃It was on the steps in the Italian Garden that the body was found；〃
commented Egbert； and resumed reading。
〃 'I daresay the danger is imaginary； but I shall feel more at ease
when he has quitted my service。' 〃
Egbert paused for a moment at the conclusion of the extract； then； as
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his uncle made no remark； he added： 〃If lack of motive was the only
factor that saved Sebastien from prosecution I fancy this letter will put a
different complexion on matters。〃
〃Have you shown it to anyone else？〃 asked Sir Lulworth； reaching
out his hand for the incriminating piece of paper。
〃No；〃 said Egbert； handing it across the table； 〃I thought I would tell
you about it first。 Heavens； what are you doing？〃
Egbert's voice rose almost to a scream。 Sir Lulworth had flung the
paper well and truly into the glowing centre of the grate。 The small；
neat hand… writing shrivelled into black flaky nothingness。
〃What on earth did you do that for？〃 gasped Egbert。 〃That letter
was our one piece of evidence to connect Sebastien with the crime。〃
〃That is why I destroyed it；〃 said Sir Lulworth。
〃But why should you want to shield him？〃 cried Egbert； 〃the man is
a common murderer。〃
〃A common murderer； possibly； but a very uncommon cook。〃
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DUSK
NORMAN GORTSBY sat on a bench in the Park； with his back to
a strip of bush…planted sward； fenced by the park railings； and the Row
fronting him across a wide stretch of carriage drive。 Hyde Park Corner；
with its rattle and hoot of traffic； lay immediately to his right。 It was
some thirty minutes past six on an early March evening； and dusk had
fallen heavily over the scene； dusk mitigated by some faint moonlight
and many street lamps。 There was a wide emptiness over road and
sidewalk； and yet there were many unconsidered figures moving silently
through the half…light； or dotted unobtrusively on bench and chair；
scarcely to be distinguished from the shadowed gloom in which they sat。
The scene pleased Gortsby and harmonised with his present mood。
Dusk； to his mind； was the hour of the defeated。 Men and women； who
had fought and lost； who hid their fallen fortunes and dead hopes as far
as possible from the scrutiny of the curious； came forth in this hour of
gloaming； when their shabby clothes and bowed shoulders and unhappy
eyes might pass unnoticed； or； at any rate； unrecognised。
A king that is conquered must see strange looks； So bitter a thing is
the heart of man。
The wanderers in the dusk did not choose to have strange looks
fasten on them； therefore they came out in this bat…fashion； taking their
pleasure sadly in a pleasure…ground that had emptied of its rightful
occupants。 Beyond the sheltering screen of bushes and palings came a
realm of brilliant lights and noisy； rushing traffic。 A blazing； many…
tiered stretch of windows shone through the dusk and almost dispersed it；
marking the haunts of those other people； who held their own in life's
struggle； or at any rate had not had to admit failure。 So Gortsby's
imagination pictured things as he sat on his bench in the almost deserted
walk。 He was in the mood to count himself among the defeated。
Money troubles did not press on him； had he so wished he could have
strolled into the thoroughfares of light and noise； and taken his place
among the jostling ranks of those who enjoyed prosperity or struggled
for it。 He had failed in a more subtle ambition； and for the moment he
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was heartsore and disillusionised； and not disinclined to take a certain
cynical pleasure in observing and labelling his fellow wanderers as they
went their ways in the dark stretches between the lamp…lights。
On the bench by his side sat an elderly gentleman with a drooping
air of defiance that was probably the remaining vestige of self…respect in
an individual who had ceased to defy successfully anybody or anything。
His clothes could scarcely be called shabby； at least they passed muster
in the half…light； but one's imagination could not have pictured the
wearer embarking on the purchase of a half…crown box of chocolates or
laying out ninepence on a carnation buttonhole。 He belonged
unmistakably to that forlorn orchestra to whose piping no one dances； he
was one of the world's lamenters who induce no responsive weeping。
As he rose to go Gortsby imagined him returning to a home circle where
he was snubbed and of no account； or to some bleak lodging where his
ability to pay a weekly bill was the beginning and end of the interest he
inspired。 His retreating figure vanished slowly into the shadows； and
his place on the bench was taken almost immediately by a young man；
fairly well dressed but scarcely more cheerful of mien than his
predecessor。 As if to emphasise the fact that the world went badly with
him the new…corner unburdened himself of an angry and very audible
expletive as