After I got back to the "King's Head" I sought James, the boots, and inquired the addressee of the letter.
"I took it round to Mr. Bramberger at the 'Goat and Binnacle,' sir," was the servant's reply.
"You know the young gentleman—eh?"
"Oh yes, sir. He's Mr. Freeman, from Woodham Ferris. He's what they call a 'mud-pupil' of Mr. Harris, Lord Croyland's agent. He's learning estate-work."
"And he knows Mr. Bramberger?"
"I suppose so. I've often taken notes for him to the 'Goat and Binnacle.'"
I was silent, recollecting the curious allegation made by the man Rait, that he had seen the dead man in Freeman's company.
Some other questions I put to the boots, but he could tell me but little else, only that young Freeman was undoubtedly a gentleman, that he spent his money freely, and possessed a large circle of friends in the district.
I learned that he lived in a small furnished cottage outside the dull little town of Woodham Ferris, and that he had an elderly man-servant who generally "did" for him.
Had I been mistaken in Vera's motive? Had she become acquainted with him as part of a preconceived plan, some ingenious plan formed by that fearless hunter of the Kaiser's spies, who was my most intimate friend?