Derrington looked as though he could have struck George, who simply made the remark to punish him for his insolence. "Never mind that," said he, controlling his temper. "I bought that house from your mother's father--the music-master," he sneered, "and gave it to Mrs. Jersey rent free. I also allowed her an annuity. She held her tongue for many years. Then she saw that confounded advertisement in the papers and threatened to tell you the truth on the chance of getting more money out of you when I was dead. I refused, and she then told me that she had written out a confession----" "I thought as much," interrupted George. "But that has been stolen." "By whom?" "By the assassin." "And who is the assassin?" "I can't say. But if use is made of that confession either you or I will learn who killed Mrs. Jersey." "Why you or I?" "Because we alone can make use of the confession and pay money for it. The thing would be no use to any one else. But I now understand Mrs. Jersey's possession of the house. Were you in it on that night?" Derrington looked at Brendon and hesitated. Then in strange contradiction to his usual manner, he turned away his face. "I decline to answer that question," he growled. "But I saw you," insisted George. "You saw--there is nothing more to be said. Hold your tongue." "Willingly," said George, politely, "if you will silence Mrs. Ward." "I have no influence with the woman." "Oh, I think so. She wishes Dorothy to marry my cousin." "Your cousin!" "Can you deny the relationship?" Derrington shirked the question by assenting to Brendon's request. "I may be able to make Mrs. Ward hold her tongue," he growled. "I am quite sure she will do anything you tell her, in the hope that you will approve of a match between my cousin and her daughter." "And you wish me to approve?" sneered the old man. "As to that, it matters little. Mrs. Ward wishes Dorothy to be Lady Derrington and to have your very excellent income. Whether she marries me or Vane it comes to the same thing. I can't understand Mrs. Ward's dislike and mischief-making since that is the case." "I can," snapped Derrington. "You are too clever for her, and Walter is a fool." "Perhaps so. However, as I shall marry Dorothy it doesn't much matter." "How can you marry her situated as you are?" "I shall be George Vane some day, sir, and then Dorothy will be my wife." "I believe she will," muttered Derrington, looking at the firm face of the young man. "Humph! So you intend to look for the certificate of marriage?" "No, for the confession of Mrs. Jersey; afterward for the church which will be mentioned in that confession. The register will prove the marriage without the necessity of the certificate. I shouldn't wonder, though," added Brendon, "if Mrs. Jersey had stolen that from my mother when she died." "Mrs. Jersey was jade enough for anything," said Derrington. "Well, she is dead, and there is no use saying bad about her."