Sitting once more in Sir Henry's study, Inspector Grange stared at the impassive face of the man in front of him.

So far, the honours lay with Gudgeon.

"I am very sorry, sir," he repeated.

"I suppose I ought to have mentioned the occurrence, but it had slipped my memory."

He looked apologetically from the Inspector to Sir Henry.

"It was about 5:30 if I remember rightly, sir. I was crossing the hall to see if there were any letters for the post when I noticed a revolver lying on the hall table. I presumed it was from the master's collection, so I picked it up and brought it in here. There was a gap on the shelf by the mantelpiece where it had come from, so I replaced it where it belonged."

"Point it out to me," said Grange.

Gudgeon rose and went to the shelf in question, the Inspector close beside him.

"It was this one, sir." Gudgeon's finger indicated a small Mauser pistol at the end of the row.

It was a.25-quite a small weapon. It was certainly not the gun that had killed John Christow.

Grange, with his eyes on Gudgeon's face, said:

"That's an automatic pistol, not a revolver."

Gudgeon coughed.

"Indeed, sir? I'm afraid that I am not at all well up in firearms. I may have used the term revolver rather loosely, sir."

"But you are quite sure that that is the gun you found in the hall and brought in here?"

"Oh, yes, sir, there can be no possible doubt about that."

Grange stopped him as he was about to stretch out a hand.

"Don't touch it, please. I must examine it for finger-prints and to see if it is loaded."

"I don't think it is loaded, sir. None of Sir Henry's collection is kept loaded. And as for finger-prints, I polished it over with my handkerchief before replacing it, sir, so there will only be my finger-prints on it."

"Why did you do that?" asked Grange sharply.

But Gudgeon's apologetic smile did not waver.

"I fancied it might be dusty, sir."

The door opened and Lady Angkatell came in. She smiled at the Inspector.

"How nice to see you, Inspector Grange.

What is all this about a revolver and Gudgeon?

That child in the kitchen is in floods of tears. Mrs. Medway has been bullying her-but, of course, the girl was quite right to say what she saw if she thought she ought to do so. I always find right and wrong so bewildering myself-easy, you know, if right is unpleasant and wrong is agreeable, because then one knows where one is-but confusing when it is the other way about-and I think, don't you. Inspector, that everyone must do what they think right themselves.

What have you been telling them about that pistol. Gudgeon?"

Gudgeon said with respectful emphasis:

"The pistol was in the hall, m'lady, on the centre table. I have no idea where it came from. I brought it in here and put it away in its proper place. That is what I have just told the Inspector and he quite understands."

Lady Angkatell shook her head. She said gently:

"You really shouldn't have said that. Gudgeon.

I'll talk to the Inspector myself."

Gudgeon made a slight movement and

Lady Angkatell said very charmingly:

"I do appreciate your motives. Gudgeon.

I know how you always try to save us trouble and annoyance." She added in gentle dismissal, "That will be all now."

Gudgeon hesitated, threw a fleeting glance towards Sir Henry and then at the Inspector, then bowed and moved towards the door.

Grange made a motion as though to stop him, but for some reason he was not able to define to himself, he let his arm fall again.

Gudgeon went out and closed the door.

Lady Angkatell dropped into a chair and smiled at the two men. She said conversationally:

"You know, I really do think that was very charming of Gudgeon. Quite feudal, if you know what I mean. Yes, feudal is the right word."

Grange said stiffly:

"Am I to understand. Lady Angkatell, that you yourself have some further knowledge about the matter?"

"Of course. Gudgeon didn't find it in the hall at all. He found it when he took the eggs out."

"The eggs?" Inspector Grange stared at her.

"Out of the basket," said Lady Angkatell.

She seemed to think that everything was now quite clear. Sir Henry said gently:

"You must tell us a little more, my dear.

Inspector Grange and I are still at sea."

"Oh!" Lady Angkatell set herself to be explicit. "The pistol you see was in the basket, under the eggs."

"What basket and what eggs. Lady Angkatell?"

"The basket I took down to the farm. The pistol was in it, and then I put the eggs in on top of the pistol and forgot all about it.

And when we found poor John Christow dead by the pool, it was such a shock I let go of the basket and Gudgeon just caught it in time (because of the eggs, I mean. If I'd dropped it they would have been broken), and he brought it back to the house. And later I asked him about writing the date on the eggs-a thing I always do-otherwise one eats the fresher eggs sometimes before the older ones-and he said all that had been attended to-and now that I remember, he was rather emphatic about it. And that is what I mean by being feudal. He found the pistol and put it back in here-I suppose really because there were police in the house.

Servants are always so worried by police, I find. Very nice and loyal-but also quite stupid, because, of course. Inspector, it's the truth you want to hear, isn't it?"

And Lady Angkatell finished up by giving the Inspector a beaming smile.

"The truth is what I mean to get," said

Grange rather grimly.

Lady Angkatell sighed.

"It all seems such a fuss, doesn't it?" she said. "I mean, all this hounding people down. I don't suppose whoever it was that shot John Christow really meant to shoot him-not seriously, I mean. If it was Gerda, I'm sure she didn't. In fact, I'm really surprised that she didn't miss-it's the sort of thing that one would expect of Gerda. And I she's really a very nice, kind creature. And if you go and put her in prison and hang „ her, what on earth is going to happen to the (children? If she did shoot John, she's probably dreadfully sorry about it now. It's bad enough for children to have a father who's that you yourself have some further knowledge about the matter?"

"Of course. Gudgeon didn't find it in the hall at all. He found it when he took the eggs out."

"The eggs?" Inspector Grange stared at her.

"Out of the basket," said Lady Angkatell.

She seemed to think that everything was now quite clear. Sir Henry said gently:

"You must tell us a little more, my dear.

Inspector Grange and I are still at sea."

"Oh!" Lady Angkatell set herself to be explicit. "The pistol you see was in the basket, under the eggs."

"What basket and what eggs. Lady Angkatell?"

"The basket I took down to the farm. The pistol was in it, and then I put the eggs in on top of the pistol and forgot all about it.

And when we found poor John Christow dead by the pool, it was such a shock I let go of the basket and Gudgeon just caught it in time (because of the eggs, I mean. If I'd dropped it they would have been broken), and he brought it back to the house. And later I asked him about writing the date on the eggs-a thing I always do-otherwise one eats the fresher eggs sometimes before the older ones-and he said all that had been attended to-and now that I remember, he was rather emphatic about it. And that is what I mean by being feudal. He found the pistol and put it back in here-I suppose really because there were police in the house.

Servants are always so worried by police, I find. Very nice and loyal-but also quite stupid, because, of course. Inspector, it's the truth you want to hear, isn't it?"

And Lady Angkatell finished up by giving the Inspector a beaming smile.

"The truth is what I mean to get," said

Grange rather grimly.

Lady Angkatell sighed.

"It all seems such a fuss, doesn't it?" she said. "I mean, all this hounding people down. I don't suppose whoever it was that shot John Christow really meant to shoot him-not seriously, I mean. If it was Gerda, I'm sure she didn't. In fact, I'm really surprised that she didn't miss-it's the sort of thing that one would expect of Gerda. And she's really a very nice, kind creature. And if you go and put her in prison and hang her, what on earth is going to happen to the children? If she did shoot John, she's probably dreadfully sorry about it now. It's bad enough for children to have a father who's been murdered-but it will make it infinitely worse for them to have their mother hanged for it. Sometimes I don't think you policemen think of these things."

"We are not contemplating arresting anyone at present. Lady Angkatell."

"Well, that's sensible at any rate. But I have thought all along. Inspector Grange, that you were a very sensible sort of man."

Again that charming, almost dazzling smile.

Inspector Grange blinked a little. He could not help it, but he came firmly to the point at issue.

"As you said just now. Lady Angkatell, it's the truth I want to get at. You took the pistol from here-which gun was it, by the way?"

Lady Angkatell nodded her head towards the shelf by the mantelpiece. "The second from the end. The Mauser.25." Something in the crisp, technical way she spoke jarred on Grange. He had not, somehow, expected Lady Angkatell, whom up to now he had labelled in his own mind as "vague" and "just a bit batty," to describe a firearm with such technical precision.

"You took the pistol from here and put it in your basket. Why?"

"I knew you'd ask me that," said Lady Angkatell. Her tone, unexpectedly, was almost triumphant. "And, of course, there must be some reason. Don't you think so, Henry?" She turned to her husband. "Don't you think I must have had a reason for taking a pistol out that morning?"

"I should certainly have thought so, my dear," said Sir Henry stiffly.

"One does things," said Lady Angkatell, gazing thoughtfully in front of her, "and then one doesn't remember why one has done them. But I think, you know. Inspector, that there always is a reason if one can only get at it. I must have had some idea in my head when I put the Mauser into my egg basket." She appealed to him. "What do you think it can have been?"