"It seems so. In fact, Captain Larcher, Hilliston has been playing a double game. He kept you and your wife apart by assuring each that the other was dead. That conduct alone stamps him as a villain. Then, again, he threw all kinds of obstacles in the way while we were investigating this case." "What for?" "My own opinion is that Hilliston committed the murder." Captain Larcher clenched his hand, and thought for a few moments. "It might be so," he muttered, more to himself than to Tait. "Hilliston was in the garden. If he loved my wife--a fact which I never suspected--he might have killed Jeringham out of jealousy." "But the dagger! How did he obtain that?" "No doubt at the ball. I assure you, Mr. Tait, that my wife had not the dagger when in the sitting room." "She declares that she threatened you with it." "Then she either forgets or speaks falsely. She wore it at the ball when I spoke to her there, but when she returned it was missing. Hilliston came with me, knowing Jeringham was with my wife. He might have picked up the dagger with the fullest intention of committing the crime. Now that I know he loved my wife I am not prepared to say how he acted in the garden while I was in the house." "And the garnet scarfpin mentioned in the novel?" "That belonged to Hilliston," said Larcher quickly. "I gave it to him myself. Denis picked it up in the garden, but I thought nothing of that, as I was aware Hilliston was in the grounds on that night. But now I believe----Oh, I am afraid to say what I believe. I may be wrong." "There is one way of finding out the truth, Captain Larcher. Come up to town this week and see your wife. Then we may learn all." The old gentleman leaned his head on his hand in deep thought for a few minutes. "I will come," he said at length. "At whatever cost, I will force the guilty woman to own the truth." CHAPTER XL. FACE TO FACE. THE conversation between Tait and Captain Larcher was not finished that evening, as the old gentleman, worn out by the excitement of the day, early retired to bed. However, he declared that he would be shortly ready to journey to London; and Claude left the Cottage with Tait on the understanding that his father was to be called for next day. Before they parted for the night Claude made a remark about Hilliston. "I hope he won't get wind of this," he said dubiously; "or he may get Mrs. Bezel--I can't call her mother--out of the way." "Have no fear," replied Tait calmly. "Hilliston's hands are too full at present." "What do you mean?" "Why," said Tait, lighting his candle; "your father showed me a letter from Hilliston, apologizing for not coming over, as his wife was lying dangerously ill at the Connaught Hotel, at Eastbourne." "He said something of that in his note to me. What is the matter with Mrs. Hilliston?" "She has the smallpox."