"No. I have a soul--what you call a soul--and the fairies have none. They are only the creatures who attend to the works of Nature; her servants. I can see them because--" here Sidney broke off, "it is no use my telling you Bess, you would not understand." Bess quite admitted this. She could not understand. All the same she did not tell her brother that he was a fool as many people would have done. She simply nodded, and passed the subject by. Her errand was to find out what Sidney had seen in the actual world. After the manner of her sex she approached the matter by a side-issue. "Sidney dear," said she, "do you know that Mr. Joyce has gone away to London?" "No! I did not," replied Sidney gravely, "but I am very glad he has gone. A bad man Bess, and he would have done you harm." "How? What do you mean." Sidney passed his hand across his face. "I cannot explain," he said in a troubled voice, "you see Bess, bad people carry about with them a bad atmosphere. That Mexican was very wicked; Joyce not so bad. Both of them made me feel quite ill. Did you never see how I refused to sit beside them? Well, that was because they gave me such pain. Not physical pain but a kind of uncomfortable feeling, which I can't put into words." "In what an old-fashioned way you talk Sidney," said Bess puzzled, "one would think you were a hundred." "I know more than I say. Corn did not teach me everything I know! "Tell me Sidney. Do you like Mr. Corn?" "I do--in a way. He is not bad, but he is weak. With good people he is good, with bad people he is bad. I am glad that Don Manuel has gone to Town. He was doing Mr. Corn a lot of harm. But if I told you what I know of these things you would only laugh at me." "No, I would not Sidney," said his sister earnestly, "I am sure that you are so sensitive that you feel these influences you talk about." "Sensitive," echoed Sidney, "yes! I suppose that is what you would call it. You have come here to ask me a question?" he said abruptly. "How do you know that?" she demanded, then seeing him shrug his thin shoulders, she admitted the truth of what he said. "I want to ask you who you saw in the Pine wood on the night when Colonel Carr was killed?" Sidney thought for a moment, then raised his eyes towards the gap in the trees formerly blocked by the tower. "I saw a lot of red mist about the tower," he said, "that was anger. I saw too--" he shook his head impatiently. "It is not these things you wish to know Bess?" "I want to know who killed Colonel Carr?"