"Of course. While he was living at Heathton I had seen Mr. Marlow several times on business. He made no attempt when I saw him at Brighton to disguise himself--not thinking, I suppose, that his clever scheme to frustrate Lestrange would come to light in this way."
"But, Blair, you did not know about Lestrange then!"
"True enough; but I soon heard the whole story. Mr. Marlow told it to me himself. As you may guess, he was in a great way about my having discovered him, and seeing no means of evading the truth, he told it. I insisted upon it, in fact; and now I know all."
"And how did it come about?"
Blair held up his hand.
"No, Mr. Thorold," said he, "I shall leave Mr. Marlow--I think we had better continue to call him so--to tell his own history. He can do it better than I. Besides," added the inspector, rising briskly, "I have business to do."
"What sort of business?"
"You can judge for yourself. I want you to come with me."
"Where--what to do?"
"To see Mrs. Warrender. You see, it was her husband who carried out this scheme of feigned death to deceive Lestrange. Marlow, accused of having murdered Achille in Jamaica, was afraid that this Captain Jean would have him arrested. Now, Warrender was in Beauchamp's house at Falmouth, Jamaica, when Mrs. Lestrange died, and he knew all about it. It is my belief," added the inspector slowly, "that Beauchamp is innocent, as he asserts himself to be, and that Warrender knew as much."