"Entirely. He was Mr. Grant's right hand. I may inform you as a proof of the confidence my poor friend put in him that Mr. Vass had, and has, the key of Mr. Grent's private safe. I will leave you alone with Vass, while I send a wire to my father in Paris, advising him of this tragedy." He paused a moment, then continued: "I may also add that Mr. Vass has been ill, and since Saturday has been confined to his bed; he returned only this morning to his work." "Oh!" thought Mr. Torry, smiling blankly to conceal his real thoughts; "so Mr. Vass the confidential secretary, has been ill and absent, has he? Now I wonder what is the meaning of that." Perhaps Mr. Torry was too suspicious, as he saw a meaning--an evil meaning--in everything. Leighbourne's explanation was a perfectly reasonable one; still, as Torry considered, it was uncalled for. Why should he take the trouble to explain the absence of the secretary? There was no need to do so. Darrel was also struck by the needless explanation, and thought that there was something doubtful about the affair. Altogether, the detective and his helper were both prejudiced against the secretary by that very innocent remark of Mr. Leighbourne's, made probably in all good faith. Vass made his appearance in a few minutes, and proved to be a pale clean-shaven fellow of about twenty-eight. He wore spectacles, and had rather a dry, pedantic air, as one given to study and--comparative--seclusion. "Mr. Vass," said Leighbourne when the clerk entered the room, "I have sent for you to give these gentlemen all information about poor Mr. Grent." "Why poor Mr. Grent?" asked Vass, with mild surprise. "I forgot you do not know. Well, I shall leave these gentlemen to explain. I must send the telegram recalling my father." "You will come back?" said Torry, as the banker walked towards the door. "If you wish me to," replied Leighbourne with frowning reluctance. "I do wish it," said the detective decisively. "You must come with me to identify the body; and it is possible that you may be required to give your evidence at the inquest." "Evidence--evidence!" cried the young man, passing his tongue over his dry lips. "What evidence can I give? I--I--I do not want to attend the inquest." "You must, sir." Leighbourne looked defiantly at the detective, and for a moment or so the pair eyed one another in silence, then the weaker of the two yielded. "If I must I must," said Leighbourne, sullenly. "I shall come back;" and he passed out, closing the door behind him with such unnecessary violence that it was plain he had departed in a bad temper.