“This letter suggests certain things,” he said, “some secret, perhaps, in Robert Turold’s life, of which you may have some inkling.  If you will give me some hint as to what it was, it might be very helpful.”

“Unfortunately, I am as much in the dark as yourself,” returned Mr. Brimsdown, rubbing his brow thoughtfully.  “I cannot make the faintest guess at the reason which called forth this letter.  I know next to nothing of my late client’s private life.  He was a man of the utmost reticence in personal matters.  My relations with him were not of that nature.”

This reply was delivered with a sincerity which it was impossible to doubt.  In palpable disappointment Barrant turned to a renewed scrutiny of the letter, which he held open in his hand.

“It is very strange,” he muttered.

“Not the least strange part of it is that I cannot ascertain who posted it,” said Mr. Brimsdown, glancing earnestly at the letter.  “I asked Thalassa, but he says he knows nothing about it.”

“Thalassa is probably lying to you as he has lied to me.  One lie more or less would not weigh on his conscience.”

“Why should he tell a lie over such a small thing as the posting of a letter?”

Barrant did not reply.  He was apparently absorbed in examining the postmarks on the envelope.  “Indistinguishable, of course,” he muttered, returning the letter to the envelope.  “Had Robert Turold any enemies?” he asked.

“I never heard him speak of any.”

“How did he come by his money?” asked Barrant, struck by a sudden thought.  “His sister tells me that he made his money abroad.”

“That I cannot tell you.”

“But you invested his fortune for him, did you not?”

“I did,” the lawyer agreed.

“In what circumstances?”

“It is rather a strange story,” replied Mr. Brimsdown slowly.

“I should like to hear it then.  It may throw some light on this letter.”

“Let us go into the other room.”

Mr. Brimsdown made this suggestion with a quick glance at his departed client on the bed, as though he feared some sardonic reproof from those grey immobile lips.

CHAPTER XXI

Barrant had returned with a feeling of irritation against the mischances of events which had brought an important piece of evidence to light after his departure for London.  He had chosen to commence inquiries into Sisily’s disappearance as soon as he had reached London instead of going to Scotland Yard, where a guarded telegram from Inspector Dawfield awaited him, and although he had hastened to obey the summons back to Cornwall as soon as he received it, two valuable days had been lost.  It was true that in that time he had found traces of the girl which he believed would lead to her early arrest, but the letter, with its implication that the dead man was aware of his impending doom, was a highly significant clue, and strengthened Barrant’s original belief that the real mystery of Robert Turold’s death lay much deeper than the plausible surface of events indicated.