"Then you think that he went to Mootley to see Anne Caldershaw and murdered her straight away?"
"I can't be sure that he murdered her," said Cannington doubtfully, "but you can see for yourself that the man is game for anything. According to what you tell me, Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered for the sake of that glass eye, which contains the clue to a fortune. Monk or Marr, or whatever you like to call the beast, might have murdered the woman and stolen the eye and have got the money. I daresay," added Cannington, with a grim laugh, "he is really wealthy."
"I can't believe it," said I, desperately hoping against hope, for it was unpleasant to think that Gertrude might be the daughter of a criminal. "Long before the Mootley murder, he was courting your sister as a rich man."
"I daresay: he might have anticipated the fortune. However, that is my opinion, Vance, so you can take it or leave it. I don't want to hear the man's name again. I only hope he'll have the good sense to stay in the States, as I sha'n't answer for my temper when we meet."
"All right, boy, don't get your hair off with me."
"I haven't," said Cannington stiffly, "but the whole affair is unpleasant."
"If it is for you, think what it must be for me, when I am going to marry the daughter of such a rotter."
"You will keep to your engagement, then?"
"Of course," I returned indignantly. "What do you take me for?"
"A jolly good chap," said the boy, giving me a friendly dig. "I expect she--the lady, I mean--is worth it. Mabel says that she is no end of a beauty."