Thirdly—­I have the most implicit confidence in Henry Jarvis, who has been in my employ for so many years, and I beg him to understand that I associate with him one so much his junior, for certain reasons into which I beg that he will not inquire.

Fourthly—­I repeat that I desire as little publicity as possible to be given to my absence, and that no money be spent on advertisements, or any other form of search.  If within two years from the date of the opening of this letter, I have not been heard from further, I desire that the usual steps be taken to presume my decease.  My will and all further particulars are with Messrs. Turnbull & James.

Fifthly—­I desire you to pay to my wife the sum of five hundred pounds monthly.  All other matters concerning my private estate, etc. are embodied in the letter to Messrs. Turnbull & James.

They all finished reading the letter about the same time.  Mr. Jarvis’ bewilderment grew deeper and deeper.

“This is the most extraordinary document I ever read in my life!” he exclaimed.  “Why, it seems as though he had gone away somewhere of his own accord.  After all, it can’t be an accident, or anything of that sort.”

Neither Arnold nor Mrs. Weatherley made any immediate reply.  She pointed to the letter.

“When did he write this?” she asked.

“Last Thursday,” Arnold replied; “less than a week ago.”

She sighed softly.

“Really, it is most mysterious,” she said.  “I wonder whether he can have gone out of his mind suddenly, or anything of that sort.”

“I have never,” Mr. Jarvis declared, “known Mr. Weatherley to display so much acumen and zest in business as during the last few days.  Some of his transactions have been most profitable.  Every one in the place has remarked upon it.”

Mrs. Weatherley took up the lace parasol which she had laid upon the office table.

“It is all most bewildering,” she pronounced.  “I think that it is no use my staying here any longer.  I will leave you two to talk of it together.  You have doubtless much business to arrange.”

“Are you going back to Bourne End or to Hampstead?” Arnold asked.

She hesitated.

“Really, I am not quite sure,” she replied, meeting his gaze without flinching.  “I am beginning to find the heat in town insufferable.  I think, perhaps, that I shall go to Bourne End.”

“In that case,” Arnold said, “will you allow me to see you there to-night?”

“To-night?” she repeated, as though in surprise.

“Without a doubt.”

She did not answer him for a moment.  Meanwhile, the telephone rang, and Mr. Jarvis was presently engrossed in a business conversation with a customer.  Arnold lowered his voice a little.

“Our discussion at luncheon was only postponed,” he reminded her.  “We have seen these documents.  We know now that Mr. Weatherley had some reason to fear an interruption to his everyday life.  Directly or indirectly, that interruption is connected with certain things of which you and I have spoken together.  I am going to ask you, therefore, to keep your promise.  I am going to ask you to tell me everything that you know.”