All these letters, which were directed in a feigned handwriting, seemed sane and sensible enough, although they showed signs of eccentricity of character.

The next batch were written after the disappearance of Edward Jacobs, and in them the signs of morbid eccentricity were more apparent.  The writer owned to having “put Jacobs out of the way,” upbraided Dudley for interfering on behalf of such a wretch, and accused him of ingratitude in refusing to leave England with his father, who had done mankind in general and him in particular a service in killing a monster.  The writer went on to accuse Dudley of siding with his father’s enemies, of wishing to have him shut up, and told him that he should never succeed.

Some of these letters were directed to The Beeches, and some to Dudley’s chambers, showing an intimate knowledge of his whereabouts.

The latest letters were wilder, more bitter, showing how insanity which had broken out into violence before was increasing in intensity, and how the feelings of regard which he had seemed to entertain for his son had given place to strong resentment against him.

After the reading of these letters, it was plain that the crime of murder which Mrs. Jacobs had laid to Dudley’s charge had been really the work of his father; and Mrs. Jacobs herself, on being made acquainted with these facts, agreed with this conclusion.

There remained only the question of Dudley’s complicity in the crime to be considered, and that was a matter which could be left until the sick man’s recovery.

It was on the first day of Dudley’s appearance in the family circle that the subject was broached, clumsily enough, by Mr. Wedmore, who was dying to know a great deal more than anybody had been willing to tell him.

Dudley had come into the drawing-room, which had been well warmed for the occasion with a roaring fire, and it was here that they found him after luncheon, with the professional nurse beside him.

The girls greeted him rather shyly, especially Doreen, but Mrs. Wedmore was motherly and gentle.  Mr. Wedmore attacked him at once.

“I can’t understand, Dudley, why you kept it all so dark.  Couldn’t you see for yourself that it was better for your father to be under restraint, as well as safer for other people?”

Mrs. Wedmore tried to interpose and to change the conversation to another subject, but Dudley said: 

“I would rather explain now, once and for all.  I shall be going away to-morrow, and there are several things which I should like to make clear first.”  He paused, and Mrs. Wedmore, her daughters and the nurse took the opportunity to leave the room.  “Now, Mr. Wedmore, tell me what you want to know.”

“Well, you told us nothing about your father’s being alive and back in England, for one thing.”

“It was by his wish that I kept it a secret.  He persisted that he was sane; he seemed to be sane.  But he believed that if it were known that he was in England he would be shut up.”