In half a minute they had started and were following the car down the road at a pace which would have been dangerous had not Watling Street been deserted at one o’clock in the morning. The moon still shone, but her light scarcely did more than disclose the sides of the road. The electric car was too far ahead to be discerned. ‘Miss Craig,’ said Richard, ‘your suspicions of what may have happened are obviously more serious than you care to admit. We do not know the nature of the adventure upon which we have embarked. Let me beg you to be frank with me. So far as your knowledge goes, has Mr. Craig committed any act, wittingly or unwittingly, which might bring him within the meshes of the law?’ ‘Do you mean, do I know whether he has killed Micky, the detective?’ ‘No,’ said Richard sharply; ‘I mean no such thing. Go back earlier than the last few days. Go back a few years, and consider. Mr. Craig told me last night that a relative had died and left him a hundred thousand pounds in silver.’ ‘Yes,’ said Teresa; ‘that was Great-uncle Andrew, the man who went to Mexico and then turned “queer.” Father has often told me of him.’ ‘You believe that you once had a Great-uncle Andrew, who left all this silver to your father?’ ‘Certainly. I remember father having all the papers and things to sign, and him fetching the money in casks on his car.’ ‘Fetching it from where?’ ‘Oh, I don’t know. I forget. Some place near London.’ ‘What should you say if I told you that you never had a Great-uncle Andrew, or that if there was such a person, he never left your father any money?’ ‘But we went into mourning!’ said Teresa naïvely. ‘Possibly,’ said Richard. ‘Do you mean to say that poor father made it all up?’ ‘With the greatest respect for your father, Miss Craig, I suspect that that was the case. I do not know for certain, but I suspect. Have you, too, not had suspicions? Answer that candidly.’ Teresa hesitated. ‘Yes,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But I swear to you that I believed my father.’ The car went through the tiny village of Chalk Hill, and their talk was suspended. Further up the road they could see the open; gate which led by a broad field-path to the chalk-pit, the path along which Richard had seen the elephant dragging the other motor-car two evenings ago. Richard directed the car gently through the gate and then stopped; they dismounted, and crossed the great field on foot. ‘If the matter of the silver was all fair and square,’ said Richard, ‘why did your father deal with the coin so mysteriously? How did he excuse himself to you when he asked your assistance?’ ‘He didn’t excuse himself,’ said Teresa stiffly. ‘I acted as he told me. I was his daughter. It was not my place to put questions. Besides, I enjoyed the business. Remember, Mr. Redgrave, that I am not a middle-aged woman.’ As they got on to the highest part of the field they saw at the far end the dim shape of the electric car.