"No, sir. He told me that he couldn't guess why it was left to him. He is all on fire to find out, and that is why he intends to offer the reward. At present he's in the shop looking over things."
"Does he intend to give up his gardening and turn shopkeeper?" I asked.
"I don't know, sir; nothing has been settled. But he returns to Burwain--so he told me--this evening. I'm going to Murchester myself, sir, on an errand for the wife, so if you will excuse me----"
"One moment, Giles. Has anything fresh been discovered?"
"No, sir; and you mark my words, sir, nothing more ever will be discovered. The woman in the white cloak has vanished entirely, glass eye and all. You are taking an interest in the case, Mr. Vance."
"Can you wonder at it, seeing how I am mixed up in the business. I want to solve the mystery if I can, out of sheer curiosity. Here's my address, Mr. Giles," I hastily scribbled it on a card, "and if you hear of anything new, let me know at once."
Giles took the pasteboard, and promised faithfully to keep his ears and eyes open and his mind on the alert. Then he moved away down the road to Murchester, with a parting advice that I should inspect the grave. "It's a pretty grave," said Giles cheerfully, "with a lovely view!"
But I did not go to look at the grave, or at the view, which the corpse--I presume--was supposed by Giles to appreciate, for it struck me that Striver being in the corner shop it would be an excellent opportunity for me to gain possession of the photograph. I therefore turned back, and in a few minutes was knocking smartly at the closed door. Shortly it was thrown open, and on the threshold appeared one of the handsomest young men I had ever seen. There were signs of good breeding about him also, and in his navy-blue serge, with a tweed cap and brown boots--rather an odd dress for a funeral, I thought--he looked less like a gardener and more like a smart city clerk. And yet in his bearing there was a smack of the West-End.
Mr. Joseph Striver was moderately tall and perfectly made--slim in figure, with the alert poise of an athlete. His hands and feet certainly betrayed the plebeian, but no one could deny the beauty of his clean-shaven face. I say "beauty" advisedly, although it is an odd adjective to apply to a man. It was a Greek face and a Greek head, clean-cut and virile, of the fair, golden Saxon type, yet more intellectual than the same generally is. A fashionable lady might have envied his transparent complexion, his blue eyes, and the curve of his lips. His form also was irreproachable, and his small head, set proudly on the white column of his throat, possessed a snake-like grace. On the whole, Mrs. Caldershaw's heir was a singularly handsome young fellow, and with her small fortune added to his personal advantages would be certain to succeed in life. It seemed quite a pity that so splendid a youth should be a mere gardener. Yet the employment is eminently respectable, since Father Adam originally took up the profession.
He looked inquiringly at me, so I opened the conversation. "My name is Vance, Mr. Striver, and----"