"Exactly," assented the negro with decision. "In all phenomena connected with the unseen there is a great measure of truth, but charlatans spoil the whole business by resorting to trickery when their powers fail. And I may say that the spiritual powers do not act always, since in a great measure we are ignorant of the laws which govern them. But enough of this discussion. I do not seek to convince you. I shall see Mrs. Tunks this afternoon and gain from her actual proof of Vand's guilt." "But I fancied that you believed my father to be guilty," said Cyril. "So I did, and if he were I would not mind, since Huxham was a rogue. But from what Miss Faith--" "Miss Huxham," interposed Bella hastily, "until this mystery is cleared up." "Very good. Well, from what Miss Huxham overheard I am inclined to think that Vand murdered the old sailor, aided by his wife." "For what reason?" "You supplied it yourself, Miss Huxham; so that they might get his money." "But what about Pence's confession?" said Cyril. "He might have committed the deed himself." "No; he had no reason to kill the old man, who was on his side in the matter of the marriage with Miss Huxham here. Besides, if Pence was guilty he certainly would not have composed what he did, and assuredly would not have produced the one hundred pounds he stole. Now that his madness for Miss Huxham is past, Pence has behaved like a rational being, and will do his best to assist us in solving this mystery." Durgo paused, then turned to the white man. "Cyril Lister, you put an advertisement into several London papers a week ago?" "Yes; I did so without telling you, as I hoped to surprise you with a letter from my father telling us of his whereabouts. How do you know?" "I saw the _Telegraph_ yesterday and also the _Daily Mail_," said Durgo, nodding approvingly; "you did well. Have you had any answer?" "If I had you should have seen it," said Cyril, wrinkling his brows as he always did when he was perplexed. "What can have become of him?" Durgo struck his large hands together in despair. "I fear my master Edwin Lister is dead," he said mournfully. "Why?" asked Bella and her lover simultaneously. "Miss Huxham, you repeated to me that Granny Tunks in her trance said that the knife lying on the floor when the cripple entered to kill Huxham, was already bloody. Can't you see?" "See what?" "That if the knife were already bloody, Huxham must have killed my master Edwin Lister, and then was killed in turn by Vand the cripple." Cyril looked impatient. "That is all the black magic rubbish you talk of." "Well, then, if my master, your father, is alive and has the jewels, why does he not write to me or to you? He knows he can trust us both. Even the advertisements have failed. No"--Durgo looked gloomy--"my heart misgives me sadly!" He arose abruptly. "Meet me at the 'Chequers,' Cyril Lister, and I shall tell you what I learn from Mrs. Tunks." "Can't I come also to see her?"