15
“Frankly,” said Sir Charles, “are we any forrader?”
It was a council of war. Sir Charles, Mr. Satterthwaite and Egg Lytton Gore¹ were sitting in the Ship-room. A fire burned in the grate, and outside an equinoctial gale² was howling.
Mr. Satterthwaite and Egg answered the question simultaneously³.
“No,” said Mr. Satterthwaite.
“Yes,” said Egg.
Sir Charles looked from one to the other of them. Mr. Satterthwaite indicated gracefully⁴ that the lady should speak first.
Egg was silent a moment or two, collecting her ideas.
“We are further on,” she said at last. “We are further on because we haven’t found out anything. That sounds nonsense, but it isn’t. What I mean is that we had certain vague sketchy⁵ ideas; we know now that certain of those ideas are definitely washouts.”
“Progress by elimination,” said Sir Charles.
“That’s it.”
Mr. Satterthwaite cleared his throat. He liked to define things.
“The idea of gain we can now put definitely away,” he said. “There does not seem to be anybody who (in detective story parlance) could benefit by Stephen Babbington’s death. Revenge seems equally out of the question. Apart from his naturally amiable⁶ and peace-loving disposition⁷, I doubt if he were important enough to make enemies. So we are back at our last rather sketchy idea - fear. By the death of Stephen Babbington, someone gains security.”
“That’s rather well put,” said Egg.
Mr. Satterthwaite looked modestly pleased with himself. Sir Charles looked a little annoyed. His was the star part, not Satterthwaite’s.
“The point is,” said Egg, “what are we going to do next - actually do, I mean. Are we going to sleuth people, or what? Are we going to disguise ourselves and follow them?”

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