"My father murdered!--he who never harmed a creature in his life." Then he bowed his head on his hands, and there was silence in the room for a little while. But Edward Hazeldine was a man of action; to sit still for any length of time was for him next to an impossibility. Presently he lifted his head, wiped his eyes, and rang the bell. To the servant who came in, he said: "Order the mare to be put into the dog-cart and brought round as quickly as possible." Then to Ephraim: "We will drive over to the Bank together as soon as I have given certain instructions to my clerk." Left alone for a few minutes, Ephraim glanced with curiosity round the handsomely furnished room. He had never been inside Edward Hazeldine's house before. Then his eyes wandered to the breakfast tray, and the little heap of post-letters lying beside it. As has been said already, other people's letters always had an irresistible fascination for Mr. Judd. If he could not see the inside of a letter, he would rather see the outside than not see it at all. His long, thin fingers shut and opened automatically. He half rose from his chair, and one hand went out towards the table. His big ears were on the alert for the slightest sound. Another moment and the letters were in his hands. He ran them quickly through, noting the post-mark of each, and the handwriting of the addresses. Evidently they were chiefly business communications. But over one of them he paused, looking at it this way and that some half-dozen times. "I could almost swear that this was the poor Governor's hand, only disguised a bit," he muttered. "Posted in London yesterday, too! That 't' is certainly his, and so is that 'h.' It's his writing, I would wager anything. Now, what could he possibly have to write Mr. Edward about yesterday that he could not tell him to-day? I would give something to know what's inside." But at this juncture he heard Edward Hazeldine's firm, heavy tread outside. The letters were replaced on the table, and three minutes later the two men were on their way to the Bank. Edward Hazeldine got back home about two o'clock. Never would he be able to forget what he had gone through that forenoon. On him, as the elder son, had devolved the duty of breaking the tragic news to his mother and sister. Mrs. Hazeldine had fainted and Fanny had gone into hysterics. The scene had tried him almost beyond endurance. The jury had been summoned for three o'clock that afternoon. As Edward could be of no further service at present, he had made his escape. He fervently hoped that the Coroner would not think it needful to call him as a witness. Everything at present was conjecture and vague surmise. So far, the police seemed to be without any clue to the perpetrator of the crime. Edward had not been home more than a few minutes when Lord Elstree was announced.