So Miss Barbar was forced to remain in ignorance of the success or failure of her counsel, and could by no means discover if the marriage she was so anxious to bring about was likely to take place. And so ended Denzil's visit to Berwin Manor. In the meantime, Lucian went back to London with a heavy heart, for he did not see how he was to set about the task imposed on him by Diana. At first he thought it would be best to advertise, as she advised, but this he considered would do no good, as if Vrain--supposing him to be alive and in hiding--would not come out at the false report of his murder, he certainly would not appear in answer to an advertisement that might be a snare. Then Lucian wondered if it would be possible to have the grave opened a second time that Diana might truly see if the corpse was that of her father or of another man. But this also was impossible, and--to speak plainly--useless, for by this time the body would not be recognisable; therefore, it would be of little use to exhume the poor dead man, whomsoever he might be, for the second time. Finally, Lucian judged it would be wisest of all to call on Dr. Jorce, and find out why he was friendly with Ferruci, and how much he knew of the Italian's doings. While the barrister was making up his mind to this course he was surprised to receive a visit from no less a person than Mr. Jabez Clyne, the father of Lydia. The little man, usually so bright and merry, now looked worried and ill at ease. Lucian--so much as he had seen of him--had always liked him better than Lydia, and was sorry to see him so downcast. Nor when he learned the reason was he better pleased. Clyne told it to him in a roundabout way. "Do you know anything against Signor Ferruci?" he asked, when the first greetings were over. "Very little, and that bad," replied Denzil shortly. "Do you refer to the horrible death of my son-in-law?" "Yes, I do, Mr. Clyne. I believe Ferruci had a hand in it, and if you bring him here I'll tell him so." "Can you prove it?" asked Clyne eagerly. "No. As yet, Ferruci has proved that he was not in Geneva Square on the night of the crime--or rather," added Lucian, correcting himself, "at the hour when the murder was committed." Clyne's face fell. "I wish you could discover if he is guilty or not," he said. "I am anxious to know the truth." "Why?" asked Lucian bluntly. "Because if he is guilty, I don't want my daughter to marry a murderer." "What! Is Mrs. Vrain going to marry him?" "Yes," said the little man disconsolately, "and I wish she wasn't." "So do I--for her own sake. I thought she did not like him. She said as much to me."