“Well?” said Felix.

“Well?” said Mr. Troy.  “Where does the suspicion of robbery rest in your opinion?  You look at the theft of the bank-note with a fresh eye.”

“You mentioned a clergyman just now,” said Felix.  “The man, you know, to whom the money was sent.  What was his name?”

“The Reverend Samuel Bradstock.”

“You want me to name the person whom I suspect?”

“Yes, if you please,” said Mr. Troy.

“I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock,” said Felix.

“If you have come here to make stupid jokes,” interposed Lady Lydiard, “you had better go back to your bed again.  We want a serious opinion.”

“You have a serious opinion,” Felix coolly rejoined.  “I never was more in earnest in my life.  Your Ladyship is not aware of the first principle to be adopted in cases of suspicion.  One proceeds on what I will call the exhaustive system of reasoning.  Thus:  Does suspicion point to the honest servants downstairs?  No.  To your Ladyship’s adopted daughter?  Appearances are against the poor girl; but you know her better than to trust to appearances.  Are you suspicious of Moody?  No.  Of Hardyman—­who was in the house at the time?  Ridiculous!  But I was in the house at the time, too.  Do you suspect Me?  Just so!  That idea is ridiculous, too.  Now let us sum up.  Servants, adopted daughter, Moody, Hardyman, Sweetsir—­all beyond suspicion.  Who is left?  The Reverend Samuel Bradstock.”

This ingenious exposition of “the exhaustive system of reasoning,” failed to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard.  “You are wasting our time,” she said sharply.  “You know as well as I do that you are talking nonsense.”

“I don’t,” said Felix.  “Taking the gentlemanly professions all round, I know of no men who are so eager to get money, and who have so few scruples about how they get it, as the parsons.  Where is there a man in any other profession who perpetually worries you for money?—­who holds the bag under your nose for money?—­who sends his clerk round from door to door to beg a few shillings of you, and calls it an ’Easter offering’?  The parson does all this.  Bradstock is a parson.  I put it logically.  Bowl me over, if you can.”

Mr. Troy attempted to “bowl him over,” nevertheless.  Lady Lydiard wisely interposed.

“When a man persists in talking nonsense,” she said, “silence is the best answer; anything else only encourages him.”  She turned to Felix.  “I have a question to ask you,” she went on.  “You will either give me a serious reply, or wish me good-morning.”  With this brief preface, she made her inquiry as to the wisdom and possibility of engaging the services of the French police.