“No,” I said again, “I don’t.”
“Neither do I. I’m almost tempted to give you a hint, just for the sporting chance; but I can’t afford it. I’ve got to have that property,” and his face suddenly hardened and his eyes grew cold. “I’ve worked hard for it and taken chances for it. It’s mine, and I’m going to have it. You haven’t a chance on earth.”
“No,” I agreed drearily, “we haven’t.”
And for the first time, I really gave up hope. Up to that moment, I had never really despaired; I had been certain that something would happen—some fortunate chance—to disclose the treasure, and assure us possession of the property. But in that instant hope died. I had somehow trusted in our star; and now, suddenly, I perceived that our star had ceased to shine. As Mr. Tunstall said, we had no chance at all.
“And now,” he added, rising, “I must ask you to excuse me. I have an engagement for this afternoon; the stage is set,” he added, with a little gesture round the room. “Really, I don’t know why I’m so candid with you, Miss Truman; only one has to be candid with somebody occasionally, or one would burst. And then, I believe I can trust you not to repeat what I’m saying.”
“Oh, yes,” I assented, drearily; “what would be the use?”
“What, indeed,” he echoed, and bowed me out.
As I turned away from the door, an elegant carriage rolled up along the drive and stopped before the house. The driver swung himself down and opened the door. I would have liked to see the occupant of the carriage, but it would have been rude to linger, so I walked on. I could not resist glancing over my shoulder, however, and I saw the driver assisting from the carriage a woman, evidently old, from her feebleness, and heavily veiled. Plainly all of Mr. Tunstall’s patronage might not be so unremunerative as Mr. Chester imagined.
As I turned away, I saw something else that startled me—a figure disappearing behind one of the evergreens. I caught only a glimpse of it—just enough to tell me that it was a man’s figure. I waited a moment, watching, but it did not reappear, and, suddenly ill at ease, I hastened out of the grounds.
I went slowly homewards, meditating upon Mr. Tunstall’s curious profession, his candor, and above all on his evident confidence that we had no chance.