“John Redmayne, my grandfather, though a rich man was a great believer in work, and all his sons had to find occupation and justify their lives in his eyes.  Uncle Albert, who was only a year younger than my father, cared for studious subjects and literature.  He was apprenticed in youth to a bookseller at Sydney and after a time came to England, joined a large and important firm of booksellers, and became an expert.  They took him into partnership and he travelled for them and spent some years in New York.  But his special subject was Italian Renaissance literature and his joy was Italy, where he now lives.  He found himself in a position to retire about ten years ago, being a bachelor with modest requirements.  He knew, moreover, that his father must soon pass away and, as his mother was already dead, he stood in a position to count upon a share of the large fortune to be divided presently between himself and his two remaining brothers.

“Of these my Uncle Bendigo Redmayne was a sailor in the merchant marine.  After reaching the position of a captain in the Royal Mail Steamship Company he retired on my grandfather’s death, four years ago.  He is a bluff, gruff old salt without any charm, and he never reached promotion into the passenger service, but remained in command of cargo boats—­a circumstance he regarded as a great grievance.  But the sea is his devotion, and when he was able to do so, he built himself a little house on the Devon cliffs, where now he resides within sound of the waves.

“My third uncle, Robert Redmayne, is at this moment apparently suspected of having killed my husband; but the more I think of such a hideous situation, the less possible does it appear.  For not the wildest nightmare dream would seem more mad and motiveless than such a horror as this.

“Robert Redmayne in youth was his father’s favourite and if he spoiled any of his sons he spoiled the youngest.  Uncle Robert came to England, and being fond of cattle breeding and agriculture, joined a farmer, the brother of an Australian friend of John Redmayne’s.  He was supposed to be getting on well, but he came and went, for my grandfather did not like a year to pass without a sight of him.

“Uncle Bob was a pleasure-loving man especially fond of horse racing and sea fishing.  On the strength of his prospects he borrowed money and got into debt.  After the death of my own father I saw a little of Uncle Robert from time to time, for he was kind to me and liked me to be with him in my holidays.  He did very little work.  Most of his time he was at the races, or down in Cornwall at Penzance, where he was supposed to be courting a young woman—­a hotel keeper’s daughter.  I had just left school and was about to leave England and go to live with my grandfather in Australia, when events happened swiftly, one on top of the other, and life was changed for all us Redmaynes.”

“Rest a little if you are tired,” said Mark.  He saw by her occasional breaks and the sighs that lifted her bosom, how great an effort Mrs. Pendean was making to tell her story well.