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Red?”
    â€œI have no means of knowing his opinions exactly, sir, but Mr. Stewart found them too progressive for his liking.”
    â€œI see. How long have you been with the family, Duncan?”
    â€œI was engaged by the late Mr. Ferrers soon after he was married.”
    â€œSo you’ve known Mr. Stewart Ferrers and Mr. Peter Ferrers all their lives?”
    â€œPretty well, sir.”
    â€œNow,” said Beef heavily, “I want you to forget for a minute that Mr. Peter’s in the room, and tell me straight out, man to man, what you think of them.”
    â€œI couldn’t possibly presume,” began the butler, but Peter interrupted him:
    â€œGo ahead, Duncan,” he said shortly.
    â€œWell, sir, they were both good sons and their father knew it. He thought the world of both of them, sir, and it upset everyone terribly when he died. Mr. Peter will remember how he stayed up with him to the last, and after the end too. The doctor was wonderfully attentive as well, sir.”
    â€œYou’re wandering from the point,” said Beef; “I want to know about their characters.”
    â€œMr. Stewart was the quieter, sir. He was a very temperate man, religious and that. I understand he’s helped the church here a geat deal. Mr. Peter was a bit more lively, if you understand me.”
    â€œAnd Doctor Benson?” queried Beef.
    Duncan’s face clouded. “I have always understood he was a very clever doctor, sir. Old Mr. Ferrers had the greatest faith in him, and wouldn’t have anybody else near him in his illness.”
    â€œHave you always worked in this house?”
    â€œYes, sir, it was when he bought this house that he engaged me.”
    â€œHad he any children, then?”
    â€œMr. Stewart was born then, sir. Mr. Peter—ahem—arrived a year later.”
    â€œAre you married, Duncan?”
    I thought I detected a smile on Peter Ferrers’s face.
    â€œYes, sir. I’ve been married five years.”
    â€œLate in life,” commented Beef, “to tie yourself up like that. Does she live anywhere round?”
    â€œOh yes, sir. She’s the cook. We met in this house.”
    I was beginning to feel impatient at these probings of Beef’s, for really the matrimonial affairs of Duncan, and the past history of the Ferrers family, could scarcely be thought to bear on the matter of Dr. Benson’s murder. But you have to be patient with Beef.
    â€œTo come back to this binge,” said Beef.
    â€œBinge?” queried Duncan, more startled than ever. His teeth jumped out and in again, and he leaned forward slightly.
    â€œWell, dinner-party, then.” Beefs manner had taken on a sort of swagger, as though it had pleased him to find at least one witness who was nervous even of him. And it seemed quite certain that Duncan really was nervous. “What time did they start?”
    â€œThey sat down to dinner at eight o’clock as usual. Mr. Stewart was very strict in the matter of times, sir. Just as his father had been.”
    â€œAnd finished?”
    â€œThey went through to the library for coffee, I should say, at about twenty-past nine, sir. I took them the coffee and brandy in there.”
    â€œDo you remember what they were talking about in the library?” asked Beef.
    Duncan paused, glanced at Peter, and shifted his teeth. “Yes,” he said quietly.
    â€œWell, come on, what was it?” roared Beef.
    Peter seemed to nod permission, and Duncan proceeded. “Well, it was about this periodical of Mr. Peter’s and Mr. Wakefield’s. I have heard it discussed before, sir. It seemed that Mr. Wakefield wanted Mr. Stewart to give it financial support.”
    Peter Ferrers broke in. “Yes, that’s quite right, Sergeant,” he said. “Wakefield and I are not rich men, and the
Passing Moment
is in pretty low water. We had been trying for some time to persuade my brother to subsidize