"Very well," replied Mrs. Taunton, quietly; "you can take the paper, and hunt that woman down, for she and none other killed my poor brother--good-bye, gentlemen, I am going to lie down;" and without another word, she left the room, and retired to her bedroom, where her overtaxed nerves gave way, and she broke down utterly.
"She is a plucky woman, that," said Foster, as they left the house, and drove away; "what do you think of it all?"
"I think," said Monteith, thoughtfully, "that the case looks very black against the former Mrs. Verschoyle, but what I want to be certain of is her relationship to Carmela."
"You can find out by asking her."
"No, I will not," said the Australian, doggedly; "but Roper can find out in Valletta, and if it turn out to be so, I'll speak to Carmela about the crime, and see what she knows."
"Suppose she prove the sister, Mrs. Verschoyle, a murderess, will you give up Carmela?"
"No," he answered, curtly. "I don't see why the sins of the father should be visited on the children, nor that one woman should be punished for the crime of another."
[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE APPLE OF DISCORD.
Altogether Foster was very pleased with the position of affairs, as there was now some tangible evidence to go upon. In the first place it had been satisfactorily ascertained that Lionel Ventin was identical with Leopold Verschoyle, and in the second the handwriting of the wife of the deceased showed that she deliberately intended to commit the crime, and to all appearances had achieved her object while the steamer was lying at Malta.