ac.themysteriousaffairatstyles-第24部分

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　‘‘Excellent。''　
　‘‘But　what　does　it　mean？''　
　‘‘Ah；　that　I　will　leave　you　to　find　out。　You　have　access　to　the　facts。　Just　say　that　to　him；　and　see　what　he　says。''　
　‘‘Very　well　　but　it's　all　extremely　mysterious。''　
　We　were　running　into　Tadminster　now；　and　Poirot　directed　the　car　to　the　‘‘Analytical　Chemist。''　
　Poirot　hopped　down　briskly；　and　went　inside。　In　a　few　minutes　he　was　back　again。　
　‘‘There；''　he　said。　‘‘That　is　all　my　business。''　
　‘‘What　were　you　doing　there？''　I　asked；　in　lively　curiosity。　
　‘‘I　left　something　to　be　analysed。''　
　‘‘Yes；　but　what？''　
　‘‘The　sample　of　coco　I　took　from　the　saucepan　in　the　bedroom。''　
　‘‘But　that　has　already　been　tested！''　I　cried；　stupefied。　‘‘Dr。　Bauerstein　had　it　tested；　and　you　yourself　laughed　at　the　possibility　of　there　being　strychnine　in　it。''　
　‘‘I　know　Dr。　Bauerstein　had　it　tested；''　replied　Poirot　quietly。　
　‘‘Well；　then？''　
　‘‘Well；　I　have　a　fancy　for　having　it　analysed　again；　that　is　all。''　
　And　not　another　word　on　the　subject　could　I　drag　out　of　him。　
　This　proceeding　of　Poirot's；　in　respect　of　the　coco；　puzzled　me　intensely。　I　could　see　neither　rhyme　nor　reason　in　it。　However；　my　confidence　in　him；　which　at　one　time　had　rather　waned；　was　fully　restored　since　his　belief　in　Alfred　Inglethorp's　innocence　had　been　so　triumphantly　vindicated。　
　The　funeral　of　Mrs。　Inglethorp　took　place　the　following　day；　and　on　Monday；　as　I　came　down　to　a　late　breakfast；　John　drew　me　aside；　and　informed　me　that　Mr。　Inglethorp　was　leaving　that　morning；　to　take　up　his　quarters　at　the　Stylites　Arms　until　he　should　have　pleted　his　plans。　
　‘‘And　really　it's　a　great　relief　to　think　he's　going；　Hastings；''　continued　my　honest　friend。　‘‘It　was　bad　enough　before；　when　we　thought　he'd　done　it；　but　I'm　hanged　if　it　isn't　worse　now；　when　we　all　feel　guilty　for　having　been　so　down　on　the　fellow。　The　fact　is；　we've　treated　him　abominably。　Of　course；　things　did　look　black　against　him。　I　don't　see　how　anyone　could　blame　us　for　jumping　to　the　conclusions　we　did。　Still；　there　it　is；　we　were　in　the　wrong；　and　now　there's　a　beastly　feeling　that　one　ought　to　make　amends；　which　is　difficult；　when　one　doesn't　like　the　fellow　a　bit　better　than　one　did　before。　The　whole　thing's　damned　awkward！　And　I'm　thankful　he's　had　the　tact　to　take　himself　off。　It's　a　good　thing　Styles　wasn't　the　mater's　to　leave　to　him。　Couldn't　bear　to　think　of　the　fellow　fording　it　here。　He's　wele　to　her　money。''　
　‘‘You'll　be　able　to　keep　up　the　place　all　right？''　I　asked。　
　‘‘Oh；　yes。　There　are　the　death　duties；　of　course；　but　half　my　father's　money　goes　with　the　place；　and　Lawrence　will　stay　with　us　for　the　present；　so　there　is　his　share　as　well。　We　shall　be　pinched　at　first；　of　course；　because；　as　I　once　told　you；　I　am　in　a　bit　of　a　hole　financially　myself。　Still；　the　Johnnies　will　wait　now。''　
　In　the　general　relief　at　Inglethorp's　approaching　departure；　we　had　the　most　genial　breakfast　we　had　experienced　since　the　tragedy。　Cynthia；　whose　young　spirits　were　naturally　buoyant；　was　looking　quite　her　pretty　self　again；　and　we　all；　with　the　exception　of　Lawrence；　who　seemed　unalterably　gloomy　and　nervous；　were　quietly　cheerful；　at　the　opening　of　a　new　and　hopeful　future。　
　The　papers；　of　course；　had　been　full　of　the　tragedy。　Glaring　headlines；　sandwiched　biographies　of　every　member　of　the　household；　subtle　innuendoes；　the　usual　familiar　tag　about　the　police　having　a　clue。　Nothing　was　spared　us。　It　was　a　slack　time。　The　war　was　momentarily　inactive；　and　the　newspapers　seized　with　avidity　on　this　crime　in　fashionable　life：　‘‘The　Mysterious　Affair　at　Styles''　was　the　topic　of　the　moment。　
　Naturally　it　was　very　annoying　for　the　Cavendishes。　The　house　was　constantly　besieged　by　reporters；　who　were　consistently　denied　admission；　but　who　continued　to　haunt　the　village　and　the　grounds；　where　they　lay　in　wait　with　cameras；　for　any　unwary　members　of　the　household。　We　all　lived　in　a　blast　of　publicity。　The　Scotland　Yard　men　came　and　went；　examining；　questioning；　lynx…eyed　and　reserved　of　tongue。　Towards　what　end　they　were　working；　we　did　not　know。　Had　they　any　clue；　or　would　the　whole　thing　remain　in　the　category　of　undiscovered　crimes？　
　After　breakfast；　Dorcas　came　up　to　me　rather　mysteriously；　and　asked　if　she　might　have　a　few　words　with　me。　
　‘‘Certainly。　What　is　it；　Dorcas？''　
　‘‘Well；　it's　just　this；　sir。　You'll　be　seeing　the　Belgian　gentleman　to…day　perhaps？''　I　nodded。　‘‘Well；　sir；　you　know　how　he　asked　me　so　particular　if　the　mistress；　or　anyone　else；　had　a　green　dress？''　
　‘‘Yes；　yes。　You　have　found　one？''　My　interest　was　aroused。　
　‘‘No；　not　that；　sir。　But　since　then　I've　remembered　what　the　young　gentlemen''　　John　and　Lawrence　were　still　the　‘‘young　gentlemen''　to　Dorcas　　‘‘call　the　‘dressing…up　box。'　It's　up　in　the　front　attic；　sir。　A　great　chest；　full　of　old　clothes　and　fancy　dresses；　and　what　not。　And　it　came　to　me　sudden　like　that　there　might　be　a　green　dress　amongst　them。　So；　if　you'd　tell　the　Belgian　gentleman　　　''　
　‘‘I　will　tell　him；　Dorcas；''　I　promised。　
　‘‘Thank　you　very　much；　sir。　A　very　nice　gentleman　he　is；　sir。　And　quite　a　different　class　from　them　two　detectives　from　London；　what　goes　prying　about；　and　asking　questions。　I　don't　hold　with　foreigners　as　a　rule；　but　from　what　the　newspapers　say　I　make　out　as　how　these　brave　Belges　isn't　the　ordinary　run　of　foreigners；　and　certainly　he's　a　most　polite　spoken　gentleman。''　
　Dear　old　Dorcas！　As　she　stood　there；　with　her　honest　face　upturned　to　mine；　I　thought　what　a　fine　specimen　she　was　of　the　old…fashioned　servant　that　is　so　fast　dying　out。　
　I　thought　I　might　as　well　go　down　to　the　village　at　once；　and　look　up　Poirot；　but　I　met　him　half…way；　ing　up　to　the　house；　and　at　once　gave　him　Dorcas's　message。　
　‘‘Ah；　the　brave　Dorcas！　We　will　look　at　the　chest；　although　　but　no　matter　　we　will　examine　it　all　the　same。''　
　We　entered　the　house　by　one　of　the　windows。　There　was　no　one　in　the　hall；　and　we　went　straight　up　to　the　attic。　
　Sure　enough；　there　was　the　chest；　a　fine　old　piece；　all　studded　with　brass　nails；　and　full　to　overflowing　with　every　imaginable　type　of　garment。　
　Poirot　bundled　everything　out　on　the　floor　with　scant　ceremony。　There　were　one　or　two　green　fabrics　of　varying　shades；　but　Poirot　shook　his　head　over　them　all。　He　seemed　somewhat　apathetic　in　the　search；　as　though　he　expected　no　great　results　from　it。　Suddenly　he　gave　an　exclamation。　
　‘‘What　is　it？''　
　‘‘Look！''　
　The　chest　was　nearly　empty；　and　there；　reposing　right　at　the　bottom；　was　a　magnificent　black　beard。　
　‘‘Ohó！''　said　Poirot。　‘‘Ohó！''　He　turned　it　over　in　his　hands；　examining　it　closely。　‘‘New；''　he　remarked。　‘‘Yes；　quite　new。''　
　After　a　moment's　hesitation；　he　replaced　it　in　the　chest；　heaped　all　the　other　things　on　top　of　it　as　before；　and　made　his　way　briskly　downstairs。　He　went　straight　to　the　pantry；　where　we　found　Dorcas　busily　polishing　her　silver。　
　Poirot　wished　her　good　morning　with　Gallic　politeness；　and　went　on：　
　‘‘We　have　been　looking　through　that　chest；　Dorcas。　I　am　much　obliged　to　you　for　mentioning　it。　There　is；　indeed；　a　fine　collection　there。　Are　they　often　used；　may　I　ask？''　
　‘‘Well；　sir；　not　very　often　nowadays；　though　from　time　to　time　we　do　have　what　the　young　gentlemen　call　‘a　dress…up　night。'　And　very　funny　it　is　sometimes；　sir。　Mr。　Lawrence；　he's　wonderful。　Most　ic！　I　shall　never　forget　the　night　he　came　down　as　the　Char　of　Persia；　I　think　he　called　it　　a　sort　of　Eastern　King　it　was。　He　had　the　big　paper　knife　in　his　hand；　and　‘Mind；　Dorcas；'　he　says；　‘you'll　have　to　be　very　respectful。　This　is　my　specially　sharpened　scimitar；　and　it's　off　with　your　head　if　I'm　at　all　displeased　with　you！'　Miss　Cynthia；　she　was　what　they　call　an　Apache；　or　some　such　name　　a　Frenchified　sort　of　cut…throat；　I　take　it　to　be。　A　real　sight　she　looked。　You'd　never　have　believed　a　pretty　young　lady　like　that　could　have　made　herself　into　such　a　ruffian。　Nobody　would　have　known　her。''　
　‘‘These　evenings　must　have　been　great　fun；''　said　Poirot　genially。　‘‘I　suppose　Mr。　Lawrence　wore　that　fine　black　beard　in　the　chest　upstairs；　when　he　was　Shah　of　Persia？''　
　‘‘He　did　have　a　beard；　sir；''　replied　Dorcas；　smilin