Clarice drew near to him again. "Do you mean to say that Uncle Henry has anything to do with these murders?" "Oh, no--I don't go so far as that, my dear. Do you remember that when I became engaged to you, you asked me to see Barras, the lawyer, since your guardian was too ill to be spoken to?" "Yes, I wanted you to inquire about the money." "Well, I spoke to Barras last week, and learn that you certainly get two thousand per annum in a couple of years. Ferdy gets the same, and Mr. Horran is sole guardian, with a right to appoint another guardian should he die. Mr. Barras, wishing to stand well with me, I suppose, as your future husband, hinted that you might not find everything right at Horran's death." "But Uncle Henry told me that everything was in order," cried Miss Baird, "and declared that he had appointed me guardian to look after Ferdy's money when he died--when Uncle Henry died, I mean." "Humph! That does not entirely agree with Mr. Barras' hints, and he did no more than hint. But something is wrong, and Mr. Horran--as I understood from Barras--is the cause of its being wrong." "Uncle Henry has always been a good friend." "Quite so, but has he been a good guardian?" "Yes. No one could have been a better one, so far as I know." "Precisely," said Anthony, quickly, "so far as you know. But the fact is, Clarice, I don't like Mr. Horran, and I never liked him, and--and--" he hesitated. "Go on--go on. Don't keep me in suspense." "Well, then, three months ago I was in town, and went to a ball at the Shah's Rooms. It was not--to be plain--a very reputable dance, or at all events it was extremely Bohemian. I went there before I was engaged to you, Clarice; now, I should not go. Well, then, at that dance, I saw Mr. Horran--" "Oh, that's quite impossible. He has not been out of his room for years and years." "I recognised him at a glance," said Ackworth, steadily, "his military carriage, his spare figure, his long, iron-grey moustache. And he was with a tall man, who had a criss-cross scar on his left cheek." "The man in grey who searched Dr. Jerce on the terrace?" "The same--if Dr. Jerce's description is to be relied upon. I never thought of the thing until you left the room. Then, remembering our late conversation, the memory of the incident came back. Now, Clarice, if this man--as Jerce declares--is mixed up in the Purple Fern business, he certainly was with Mr. Horran, and that, don't you see, brings your guardian into the affair." Clarice turned quite pale. "It is very mysterious," she said to herself, "and yet it seems perfectly absurd. Uncle Henry is ill; he has always been ill, off and on, for the last ten years. I have lived in this house with him all the time. How could he possibly go to town even once without my knowledge?" Ackworth shrugged his square shoulders. "Oh, as to that, a good motor-car could take him to London and back in a few hours." "Uncle Henry has not got a motor-car."