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mfortable suspicion that the Spaniard had won. Even as I surveyed the ruins of my theories I was conscious that little was left to connect Casteno with the murder.
"But do you think your brother Paul will be discovered?" I asked.
"I cannot tell," said Casteno, and I could see now he was sincerely grieved at the disastrous intelligence I had communicated to him. "There are sure to be plenty of people in Embankment Mansions who will remember the caning which the lad had from the colonel on the stairs. They will be certain, when they recover their wits, to give the police the details of that affray; also there is that discharged servant I spoke of--the man Butterworth. He hates Paul like poison. He will leave no stone unturned, I am certain, to connect the lad with the crime.
"Still, mere suspicion is one thing, and evidence strong enough to warrant arrest is another," he added after a moment's careful consideration. "Perhaps, after all, I am wrong. Somebody else may have done it. We shall see."
"Whoever it is I shall do my best to bring them to justice," I cried hotly. "I don't care whether it is Paul Zouche--"
"Of course not," replied Casteno with much dignity. "I have no doubt you will communicate all I have repeated to you to Scotland Yard. Indeed, I never had any two opinions on that score. At the same time you must excuse me if I don't evince any keen desire to debate the matter further."
"I never asked you to do so," I retorted, anxious not to be outdone in courtesy by the Spaniard. "All your statements to me were practically volunteered."
"True," said Casteno. "As a matter of fact, I felt they were honestly due to you. I saw that my absence from your rooms at the time when the colonel was murdered looked very ugly for me. Very ugly, indeed."
"Particularly after you had warned the man only an hour previously that if he didn't do a certain thing, which he subsequently declined to do for you, he would regret his action before four and twenty hours had passed."
"Quite so. Quite so. All the same, that was but a figure of speech. Myself, I had no idea of violence or revenge. My sole impression was of his gross injustice to yourself, which I felt Time himself would most quickly avenge.
"Still," he went on, and now his tones were particularly grave, "don't let us go on debating this business further. It is very awful--it is dreadfully tragic--and it seems to strike right at the heart of the family life of us both. Let us leave it where it stands. I am sure myself a crime like that, in the heart of London, can't remain hidden for many days, particularly with such assistance as you will be able to give the police when you have a few moments to spare to write or to wire to the headquarters staff at Scotland Yard. Therefore don't pursue the matter with me any longer. Realise that you, and I too, are engaged on a business of gigantic international importance. Aren't you curious to hear what I have arranged since I sent you that telegram informing you my father, as I suppose I must now call the hunchback when I speak of him to you, had picked up with this flying machine inventor, Sparhawk, and had actually determined to go on a journey through the air with him to-morrow in a brand new flying machine?"
"I am very curious," I admitted. "I had no idea old Peter had such adventurous tastes."
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