“I remember,” said Burt.

“Of course.  You were there at the time.  We were able to struggle along for some time after this on money which we borrowed and on the profits of our African trade.  The time came, however, when the borrowed money was to be repaid, and once again the firm was in danger.  It was then that we first thought of the fortune of my ward.  It was enough to turn the scale in our favour, could we lay our hands upon it.  It was securely tied up, however, in such a way that there were only two means by which we could touch a penny of it.  One was by marrying her to my son; the other was by the young lady’s death.  Do you follow me?”

Burt nodded his shaggy head.

“This being so, we did all that we could to arrange a marriage.  Without flattery I may say that no girl was ever approached in a more delicate and honourable way than she was by my son Ezra.  I, for my part, brought all my influence to bear upon her in order to induce her to meet his advances in a proper spirit.  In spite of our efforts, she rejected him in the most decided way, and gave us to understand that it was hopeless to attempt to make her change her mind.”

“Some one else, maybe,” suggested Burt.

“The man who put you on your back at the station,” said Ezra.

“Ha!  I’ll pay him for that,” the navvy growled viciously.

“A human life, Mr. Burt,” continued Girdlestone, “is a sacred thing, but a human life, when weighed against the existence of a great firm from which hundreds derive their means of livelihood, is a small consideration indeed.  When the fate of Miss Harston is put against the fate of the great commercial house of Girdlestone, it is evident which must go to the wall.”

Burt nodded, and poured some more Hollands from the square bottle.

“Having seen,” Girdlestone continued, “that this sad necessity might arise, I had made every arrangement some time before.  This building is, as you may have observed in your drive, situated in a lonely and secluded part of the country.  It is walled round too in such a manner that any one residing here is practically a prisoner.  I removed the lady so suddenly that no one can possibly know where she has gone to, and I have spread such reports as to her condition that no one down here would be surprised to hear of her decease.”

“But there is bound to be an inquiry.  How about a medical certificate?” asked Ezra.

“I shall insist upon a coroner’s inquest,” his father answered.

“An inquest!  Are you mad?”

“When you have heard me I think that you will come to just the opposite conclusion.  I think that I have hit upon a scheme which is really neat—­neat in its simplicity.”  He rubbed his hands together, and showed his long yellow fangs in his enjoyment of his own astuteness.

Burt and Ezra leaned forward to listen, while the old man sank his voice to a whisper.