He brushed aside my question as to how the old hag, Bite-in-the-Dark, had changed into a man; for I had recognized the face of the evil old woman as the blow caught me between the eyes. "Merely a matter of clothes," said Worthing. But the mention of the manuscript, when I came to that part of the narrative, excited him immensely as though he had hit upon the main trail at last; and my father's poring over the plans, his explorations of the creeks and pools about the _Dolphin_, and his story of the accursed treasure that night at Sunset Towers, became the nucleus of Worthing's enquiries. And indeed I wasn't so lacking in insight as to be unaware of the significance of all this; it was the unifying element which should explain the mystery that baffled me. For in my superstitious way I was inclined to believe it was the working out of the old curse upon yet another victim. The murderer, be he man or woman, I regarded as merely an instrument in the hand of that darker impalpable horror which my father had named Shadow-of-Fear. But Worthing laughed all such stuff to scorn. He set about hunting for the manuscript among my father's papers, but it was missing. The discovery of its loss set him darkly thinking; and one night when we had been lying silently in bed for a while he suddenly sat up and said: "It's all so ridiculously simple, Tommy, that I'm afraid there's a catch in it somewhere." "Simple?" I exclaimed. "Look here," he replied, "just let's put together what we actually know. Firstly, it's obvious your father was after that 'unhallowed gold' as you call it. Secondly, the manuscript with the plan is missing. There's evidence enough to piece out the whole story, except the actual identity of the murderer. It's just that somebody else was after that gold as well. He wanted the plan, and he's got it. If we hang about here long enough we shall either be put out of the way or, if we're clever enough to preserve our skins, we shall see the fellow come back and in turn start hunting for the treasure." It seemed absurdly clear as Worthing expounded it, but it didn't satisfy me. Yet I couldn't explain to Worthing why it didn't satisfy me, for it was merely that in my heart I felt there was something darker and more mysterious than mere greed of gold that had laid my father low. The story of the curse had got into my blood. Indeed it had become a familiar strand woven into all my dreams and colouring my very outlook on life. And this was but natural considering the fear and mystery which had shadowed my short but eventful career, till the unseen world had become as real to me as the seen. Worthing continued, "How we are to find the murderer is another matter." "Need we find him?" I asked, forgetting the fine vows I was used to make when in Dirk's company. For my mind was brooding on the horror and inexplicability of it all, and I thought it might be as well to wash my hands of the unholy affair.