assistance to you. I am not /ebon D/eu to control the waves; for the nursery window I should suggest some iron bars; and for the food - what can equal a mother's care?' 'But why should these things happen to Ronald and not to Gerald?' 'The chance, madame - le hasardl' 'You think so?' 'What do you think, madame - you and your husband?' A shadow crossed Mrs Lemesurier's face.

'It's no good going to Hugo - he won't listen. As perhaps you may have heard, there's supposed to be a curse on the family no eldest son can succeed. Hugo believes in it. He's wrapped up in the family history, and he's superstitious to the last degree.

When I go to him with my fears, he just says it's the curse, and we can't escape it. But I'm from the States, M. Poirot, and over there we don't believe much in curses. We like them as belonging to a real high-toned old family - it gives a sort of cachet, don't you know. I was just a musical comedy actress in a small part when Hugo met me - and I thought his family curse was just too lovely for words. That kind of thing's all right for telling round the fire on a winter's evening, but when it comes to one's own children I just adore my children, M. Poirot. I'd do anything for them.' 'So you decline to believe in the family legend, madame?' 'Can a legend saw through an ivy stem?' 'What is that you are saying, madame?' cried Poirot, an expression of great astonishment on his face.

'I said, can a legend - or a ghost, if you like to call it that - saw through an ivy stem? I'm not saying anything about Cornwall.

Any boy might go out too far and get into difficulties - though Ronald could swim when he was four years old. But the ivy's different. Both the boys were very naughty. They'd discovered they could climb up and down by the ivy. They were always doing it. One day - Gerald was away at the time - Ronald did it once too often, and the ivy gave way and he fell. Fortunately he didn't damage himself seriously. But I went out and examined the ivy: it was cut through, M. Poirot - deliberately cut through.' 'It is very serious what you are telling me there, madame. Yo say your younger boy was away from home at the moment?' 'Yes.'

'And at the time of the ptomaine poisoning, was he still away?' 'No, they were both there.'

'Curious,' murmured Poirot. 'Now, madame, who are the inmates of your establishment?'

'Miss Saunders, the children's governess, and John Gardiner, my husband's secretary - '

Mrs Lemesurier paused, as though slightly embarrassed.

'And who else, madame?'

'Major Roger Lemesurier, whom you also met on that night, I believe, stays with us a good deal.'

'Ah, yes - he is a cousin, is he not?'

'A distant cousin. He does not belong to our branch of the family. Still, I suppose now he is my husband's nearest relative.

He is a dear fellow, and we are all very fond of him. The boys are devoted to him.'

'It was not he who taught them to climb up the ivy?'

'It might have been. He incites them to mischief often enough.' 'Madame, I apologize for what I said to you earlier. The danger is real, and I believe that I can be of assistance. I propose that you should invite us both to stay with you. Your husband will not object?'

'Oh no. But he will believe it to be all of no use. It makes me furious the way he just sits around and expects the boy to die.'

'Calm yourself, madame. Let us make our arrangements methodically.'

Our arrangements were duly made, and the following day saw us flying northward. Poirot was sunk in a reverie. He came out of it, to remark abruptly: 'It was from a train such as this that Vincent Lemesurier fell?'

He put a slight accent on the 'fell'.

'You don't suspect foul play there, surely?' I asked.

'Has it struck you, Hastings, that some of the Lemesurier deaths were, shall we say, capable of being arranged? Take that of Vincent, for instance. Then the Eton boy - an accident with a gun is always ambiguous. Supposing this child had fallen from the nursery window and been dashed to death - what more natural and unsuspicious? But why only the one child, Hastings? Who profits by the death of the elder child? His younger brother, a child of sevenl Absurdl' 'They mean to do away with the other later,' I suggested, though with the vaguest ideas as to who 'they' were.

Poirot shook his head as though dissatisfied.

'Ptomaine poisoning,' he mused. 'Atropine will produce much the same symptoms. Yes, there is need for our presence.' Mrs Lemesurier welcomed us enthusiastically. Then she took us to her husband's study and left us with him. He had changed a good deal since I saw him last. His shoulders stooped more than ever, and his face had a curious pale grey tinge. He listened while Poirot explained our presence in the house.

'How exactly like Sadie's practical common sensei' he said at last. 'Remain by all means, M. Poirot, and I thank you for coming; but - what is written, is written. The way of the transgressor is hard. We Lemesuriers/enow - none of us can escape the doom.' Poirot mentioned the sawn-through ivy, but Hugo seemed very little impressed.

'Doubtless some careless gardener - yes, yes, there may be an instrument, but the purpose behind is plain; and I will tell you this, M. Poirot, it cannot be long delayed.' Poirot looked at him attentively.

'Why do you say that?' 'Because I myself am doomed. I went to a doctor last year. I am suffering from an incurable disease - the end cannot be much longer delayed; but before I die, Ronald will be taken. Gerald ill inherit.' 'And if'anything were to happen to your second son also?' 'Nothing will happen to him; he is not threatened.' 'But if it did?' persisted Poirot.

'My cousin Roger is the next heir.' We were interrupted. A tall man with a good figure and crisply curling auburn hair entered with a sheaf of paper.

'Never mind about those now, Gardiner,' said Hugo Lemesuder; then he added: 'My secretary, Mr Gardiner.' The secretary bowed, uttered a few pleasant words and then went out. In spite of his good looks, there was something repellent about the man. I said so to Poirot shortly afterwards when we were walking round the beautiful old grounds together, and rather to my surprise, he agreed.

'Yes, yes, Hastings, you are right. I do not like him. He is too good-looking. He would be one for the soft job always. Ah, here are the children.' Mrs Lemesurier was advancing towards us, her two children beside her. They were fine-looking boys, the younger dark like his mother, the elder with auburn curls. They shook hands prettily enough, and were soon absolutely devoted to Poirot. We were next introduced to Miss Saunders, a nondescript female, who completed the party.

For some days we had a pleasant, easy existence - ever vigilant, but without result. The boys led a happy normal life and nothing seemed to be amiss. On the fourth day after our arrival Major Roger Lemesurier came down to stay. He was little changed, still care-free and debonair as of old, with the same habit of treating all things lightly. He was evidently a great favourite with the boys, who greeted his arrival with shrieks of delight and immediately dragged him off to play wild Indians in the garden. I noticed that Poirot followed them unobtrusively.

On the following day we were all invited to tea, boys included, with Lady Claygate, whose place adjoined that of the Lemesuriers.

Mrs Lemesurier suggested that we also should come, but seemed rather relieved when Poirot refused and declared he would much prefer to remain at home.

Once everyone had started, Poirot got to work. He reminded me of an intelligent terrier. I believe that there was no corner of the house that he left unsearched; yet it was all done so quietly and methodically that no attention was directed to his movements.

Clearly, at the end, he remained unsatisfied. We had tea on the terrace with Mis Sannders, who had not been included in the party.