'To the club. I must see you privately.'
The Beorminster Club was just a short distance down the street, so George followed Harry into its hospitable portals and finally accepted a comfortable chair in the smoking-room, which, luckily for the purpose of Brace, was empty at that hour. The two young men each ordered a cool hock-and-soda and lighted two very excellent cigarettes which came out of the pocket of extravagant George. Then they began to talk, and Harry opened the conversation with a question.
'George,' he said, with a serious look on his usually merry face, 'were you on Southberry Heath on the night that poor devil was murdered?'
'Oh, yes,' replied Captain Pendle, with some wonder at the question. 'I rode over to the gipsy camp to buy a particular ring from Mother Jael.'
'For Miss Arden, I suppose?'
'Yes; I wished for a necromantic symbol of our engagement.'
'Did you hear or see anything of the murder?'
'Good Lord, no!' cried the startled George, sitting up straight. 'I should have been at the inquest had I seen the act, or even heard the shot.'
'Did you carry a pistol with you on that night?'
'As I wasn't riding through Central Africa, I did not. What is the meaning of these mysterious questions?'