"Oh," I said, half to myself, "so I was right."
"Yes, you were right," assented Striver quickly. "I wanted my aunt to show me the eye when she was alive, but she always refused and said that it would remain in her head until she died."
"A violent death, Mr. Striver."
"Yes. She always declared that because of this secret she would not die in her bed. She was afraid that Miss Monk would kill her."
"Oh, rubbish!" I interrupted impatiently. "Miss Monk would not kill a fly, as you well know. Mrs. Caldershaw must have been mad."
"I think she was," murmured Gertrude, clinging to me.
"She was not mad enough to give away the secret of the eye to me," said Striver savagely. "I heard from Miss Destiny that Miss Monk had learned from some diary of Gabriel Monk's that my aunt knew the secret of the money."
"Yes," interrupted Gertrude, looking up, "but not of the eye."
"Seeing that you murdered my aunt, I believe you did," contradicted the gardener bluntly. "Miss Destiny said that you were going over to Mootley to see my aunt. I went over also."
"On that evening?" I asked, startled.