“But, Juanita, to suppose that any man could hate the purchaser of his squandered estate with a hatred malignant enough for murder is to imagine humanity akin to devils.” “We are akin to devils,” cried Juanita, excitedly. “I felt that I could rejoice as the devils rejoice at human suffering if I could see my husband’s murderer tortured. Yes, if he were tied against a tree, as Indian savages tie their sacrificial victims—tied against a tree and killed by inches, with every variety of torture which a hellish ingenuity can suggest, I would say my litany, like those savages, my litany of triumph and content. Yes, Theodore, we have more in common with the devils than you may think.” “I cannot see the possibility of murder, prompted by such an inadequate motive,” said Theodore, slowly, remembering, as he spoke, how Churton had suggested that the crime looked like a vendetta. “Inadequate! Ah, that depends, don’t you see. Remember, we have not to deal with good people. The Strangways were always an evil race. Almost every tradition that remains about their lives is a story of wrong-doing. And think how small a wound may be deadly when the blood has poison in it beforehand. And is it a small thing to see strangers in a home that has been in one’s family for three centuries? Again, remember that although nothing throve on the Cheriton Estate while the Strangways held it—or at any rate not for the last hundred years of their holding—no sooner was my father in possession than the luck changed. Quarries were developed; land that had been almost worthless became valuable for building. Everything has prospered with him. And think of them outside—banished for ever, like Adam and Eve out of Paradise. Think of them with hate and envy gnawing their hearts.” “There would be time for them to get over that feeling in four and twenty years. And when you talk about _them_, I should like to know exactly whom you mean. I assure you the general idea is that they have all died off. That is to say, all of the direct line.” “It is upon that very subject I want to talk to you, Theodore. Would you like to do me a service, a very great service?” “Nothing would make me happier.” “Then will you try to find out all about the Strangways—if they are really all gone, or if there are not some survivors, or a survivor, of the last squire’s family? If you can do that much it will be something gained. We shall know better what to think. When I heard that you were going to live in London, it flashed into my mind that you would be just the right person to help me, and I knew how good you had been to me always, and that you _would_ help. London is the place in which to make your inquiries. I have heard my father say that all broken lives—all doubtful characters—gravitate towards London. It is the one place where people fancy they can hide.”