"It was set at the correct word, the word known only to Colonel Ray, myself, and yourself?" "Yes, sir."
The Duke leaned back in his chair and addressed Lord Chelsford.
"For the reasons which you have heard from Mr. Ducaine himself," he said drily, "I came to the conclusion that he was mistaken in his suggestion. I think that you will probably be inclined to agree with me."
These men had learnt well the art of masking their feelings. From Lord
Chelsford's polite bow I could gather nothing.
"I am forced to admit," he said, "that no other conclusion seems possible. Now, Mr. Ducaine, with regard to the execution of your work. It is carried out altogether, I believe, at the 'Brand'?"
"Entirely, sir."
"Your only servant is the man Grooton, for whom the Duke and I myself are prepared to vouch. You are also watched by detectives residing in the village, as I dare say you know. I also understand that you have no private correspondence, and receive practically no visitors. Now tell me the only persons who, to your knowledge, have entered the 'Brand' since you have been engaged in this work."
I answered him at once.
"Colonel Ray, Lady Angela Harberly, Lord Blenavon, the Prince of Malors, and a young lady called Blanche Moyat, the daughter of a farmer in Braster at whose house I used sometimes to visit."
Lord Chelsford referred to some notes in his hand. Then he leaned back in his chair, and looked at me steadfastly.