"I issued a false certificate, and at Silwood's dictation penned the letter sent to Mr. Eversleigh's father," went on the Syndic, now bent on leaving nothing untold. "And it was he who arranged I should have in my possession the letters, money, clothes, and other articles which belonged to him." "To give colour to the fiction of Silwood's death?" asked the Deputy. "Precisely. I thought we had foreseen everything, and that discovery was impossible. Alas! but we are blind fools! I hoped, when inquiries came, I should be able to satisfy them easily. The two men who came to make inquiries before Mr. Eversleigh, I had no difficulty with." It was Gilbert's turn to be amazed. "What?" he cried. "Two men before me! What do you mean?" "Ah, you did not know of them?" said the Syndic. "One was a detective of the English police, the other was a journalist, but they went empty away." "Do you know their names?" "Am I likely to forget anything or anybody connected with this affair?" asked Ucelli. "No; the name of the detective was Brydges, of Scotland Yard; that of the other was Westgate, a man on the staff of a London journal, the _Morning Call_." The names conveyed no meaning to Gilbert, but he was filled with wonder. Thinking it over later, he saw it must have been suspected by others that Silwood was not dead, and he guessed these inquiries had been made in connection with the finding of Thornton's body in Silwood's rooms in Lincoln's Inn. The knowledge that the detective and the journalist had been at Camajore, however, gave him a bad turn; he was afraid to think what might have happened to his father if either of them had stumbled on the truth. "I know neither of them," said Gilbert to the Syndic. "They got nothing from me," resumed Ucelli. "I felicitated myself on getting rid of them without trouble. And then you came, Mr. Eversleigh, and I imagined you were as satisfied as they had been. I was a blind fool, a blind fool!" "You see I was sure Silwood was not dead," remarked Gilbert. "Do you know where he is?" eagerly inquired the Syndic. "No, I don't; I hoped you would know." The Syndic shook his head. Signor Vinci darted an angry look at him. "I don't know," persisted Ucelli, seeing the look. "What occurred after the so-called death of Silwood?" asked the Deputy. "How did he get out of the country? It's plain he did not go as Silwood. If he had plenty of money, as I suppose his giving you fifty thousand liras shows, he would be able to procure disguises, have his own carriage, and journey as he liked." "Mr. Silwood," replied Ucelli, "is undoubtedly a very rich man, as you suggest. He had an abundance of money." Gilbert startled the other two men by suddenly rising from his chair with a vehement ejaculation. "Silwood a rich man?" he cried. "Beyond question, a very rich man." Here was a new idea to Gilbert--new with a vengeance! Silwood rich!