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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 completed 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,

116

The Mysterious Affair at Styles