“Doubtless you were not, for of late—­I mean for the twelve months or so preceding your father’s death—­you know he was much estranged from all the family, so that you none of you knew much of what he was doing, except that he was carrying on a very wild and reckless career, such as was sure to end in dishonour and poverty; but I tell you he had the title deeds of the Dearbrook property, and that they were only got from him, along with everything else of value that he possessed, at the gaming-table, by the man who paid such a fearful penalty for his success.

“It was not until after the body was completely buried, and we had completed all our precautions for more effectually hiding it from observation, that we recollected the fact of those important papers being in his possession.  It was Marmaduke Bannerworth who first remembered it, and he exclaimed,—­

“’By Heaven, we have buried the title deeds of the property, and we shall have again to exhume the corpse for the purpose of procuring them.’

“Now those deeds were nothing to me, and repugnant as I had felt from the first to having anything whatever to do with the dead body, it was not likely that I would again drag it from the earth for such an object.

“‘Marmaduke Bannerworth,’ I said, ’you can do what you please, and take the consequences of what you do, but I will not again, if I can help it, look upon the face of that corpse.  It is too fearful a sight to contemplate again.  You have a large sum of money, and what need you care now for the title deeds of a property comparatively insignificant?’

“‘Well, well,’ he said, ’I will not, at the present time, disturb the remains; I will wait to see if anything should arise from the fact of the murder; if it should turn out that no suspicion of any kind is excited, but that all is still and quiet, I can then take measures to exhume the corpse, and recover those papers, which certainly are important.’

“By this time the morning was creeping on apace, and we thought it prudent to leave the spot.  We stood at the end of the lane for a few moments conversing, and those moments were the last in which I ever saw Marmaduke Bannerworth.”

“Answer me a question,” said Henry.

“I will; ask me what you please, I will answer it.”

“Was it you that called at Bannerworth Hall, after my father’s melancholy death, and inquired for him?”

“I did; and when I heard of the deed that he had done, I at once left, in order to hold counsel with myself as to what I should do to obtain at least a portion of the property, one-half of which, it was understood, was to have been mine.  I heard what had been the last words used by Marmaduke Bannerworth on the occasion of his death, and they were amply sufficient to let me know what had been done with the money—­at all events, so far as regards the bestowal of it in some secret place; and from that moment the idea of, by some means or another, getting the exclusive possession of it, never forsook my mind.