"There's never smoke without a fire," he said. "Dr. Cooper was not drawing upon his imagination when he spoke about poisons and sleeping draughts, and of a poor doctor being called in to testify to a death of which he knew less than nothing. It happened, Ned! it happened; it fits in with what occurred in this house. He supplied the proof in the last words he spoke to you--'there's such a thing as cremation.' It is as clear as the noonday sun. Mr. Nisbet wanted a doctor's certificate of death; he calls in Dr. Cooper and obtains what he requires, in the exact shape he desires, for the payment of a few guineas and the promise of a further reward which has never been fulfilled. What is the consequence? This wretched pettifogger bears an animosity against his employer, which may perhaps be turned to good account--though whether he babbles when sober as he does when he is in his cups remains to be seen. He must not be lost sight of."
"He shall not be. I am thinking whether it will be advisable to put the inquiry agent on his track."
"We can decide nothing as yet, but the thing is moving, that's one comfort. Every day, almost every hour, some new feature seems to come to light. What are you doing?"
"Writing the description of Mr. Nisbet's personal appearance with which Barbara supplied us. I promised to let Mr. Dickson have it as soon as possible, and I shall post it to him to-night. Now for your news, Bob."
"Almost as important as yours. When you left us I commenced to make a thorough examination of the house, as I said I would. Barbara assisted me. I examined every room, every cupboard, and found a lot of things which had apparently been thrown away in haste. These discoveries gave point to an observation I have already made to you--that it is strange the last tenant did not call in a broker and dispose of articles for which he had no use, as he evidently had no intention of occupying the house. Barbara was much surprised at our discoveries, and I shouldn't wonder, honest as I believe the child to be, if the idea occurred to her that she might have made use of the property from time to time to relieve her poverty. However, that is neither here nor there, and I may be doing Barbara an injustice. We had occupied some time in our search, when it became necessary to devote attention to the preparation of dinner, so I sent the girl away, and continued to poke about alone. It was well I did so, for I made what I conceive to be a startling discovery. On the floor above this there are two attics, presumably intended for servants' bedrooms. There is a rather large landing, and in the wall of this landing I observed two low doors. Opening them, I found that they were cupboards for the receptacle of lumber; they extend far into the outer wall of the house. It was in one of these cupboards, at the extreme end, that I made my startling discovery. What kind of dress did Barbara say that Miss Beatrice wore when she last saw her?"
"A gray silk, with steel trimmings."
Bob went to a corner of the room and brought forward a large bundle.
"Here it is."
There it was, sure enough--a very beautiful dress, perfectly made, of expensive material.
"Observe," said Bob, "this is not a dress which has served its day, and which it is at all probable the wearer voluntarily discarded. It is almost new, and could have been worn but a few times. I put this aside, and I produce every other article of a lady's attire--silk stockings, shoes, petticoats, mantle, hat. I produce also a lady's nightdress, and every other requisite--the outfit is complete. All these articles are in good condition; the stockings show no signs of wear, the shoes are nearly new, the mantle must have cost a fair sum of money. To whom did these clothes belong?"