CHAPTER V.
THE DEDUCTIONS OF A DETECTIVE.
Both Constance and Dr. Heath fancy that they comprehend the situation almost instantaneously. The stranger's movements have been so cat-like, his voice so carefully modulated, that Aunt Honor reads on, never dreaming that an addition has been made to the party. Dr. Heath is the first to speak.
"Upon my word," he says, with a touch of coldness in his tone; "this is quite dramatic."
"It's a very good tableaux," admits the new comer, "but dramatic as the present day drama goes? No, it's too naturally brought about, as you will admit, when I explain my presence here. Your mention of my name, while I lay sprawled across the great branch, within easy hearing, was rather sensational, to me, but, of course you can explain that."
By this time Constance has recovered herself, and rises to the occasion; in fact, she rather enjoys the situation; this is one of the emergencies wherein she is quite at home. Without stopping for commonplace remarks, or expressions of surprise, she goes straight to the point.
"How we came to be discussing you, you must understand, if you are really Mr. Bathurst, and—have been very long in that tree."
"I have been 'very long' in that tree, I feel it," ruefully. "And I am Neil Bathurst, detective; never was anybody else, and by the by, here is this doctor; I heard him giving me a capital 'recommend;' now bid him step up and identify me," and he laughs as if he had uttered a capital joke.
Doctor Heath laughs now, as he comes closer and scrutinizes him by the light from the drawing room.
"Oh, I recognize you by your voice, which you have not attempted to disguise, and by your—a—assurance."