"A letter from your old friend, Dr. Carson."
Brock woke up with a start. He was clearly agitated. "From a dead man? What does it mean?"
"A message of some import, no doubt," said Mallow. "Young Carson brought it home with him, but forgot to deliver it."
"A voice from the grave!" muttered Brock, unheeding. His hands were busy with two papers--a closely written letter, and a dozen long pages of foolscap of aggressively official appearance. Mallow's fingers itched to take them up, but he judiciously restrained himself; and watched the vicar skim his eye over the letter. Its perusal seemed to move him greatly.
"Wrong, wrong," he said, folding it up. "Better to let the dead past bury its dead," and shuffling the papers into their envelope, he slipped it under his pillow.
Mallow was struck by his remark. It tended to confirm his long-entertained suspicions.
"Mr. Brock," he asked, after a moment, "was there a secret in the life of the late Mr. Bellairs?"
"Why should you think so?" said the vicar, nervously.
"I have not forgotten about the sealed letter which forced Olive into marrying Carson. She asked you what its hint of evil meant. You told her to take no notice of it."
"That was her best course," said Mr. Brock, still agitated. "So long as she married Angus, there was no need for her to trouble about the letter."