"And Joe was a sailor. I wonder if Marlow went in for trading there?"
"It's not impossible," said the Rector; "but that fact, even if we knew it to be true, could throw no light on the disappearance of his body."
"I don't know. I have a good mind to go to Jamaica--to Kingston--to make inquiries. The West Indian Island area is not so very large. If Marlow had been a trader there twenty years ago, he would still be remembered amongst them. I might come across some one who knew of his past life."
"You might," assented Phelps, with an amount of sarcasm surprising in so mild a man, "if Marlow were his real name."
The two were sitting over their wine in the twilight amid the glimmer of shaded candles. This last remark of the Rector's so surprised Alan, that he turned suddenly, and knocked his glass off the table. After he had apologized for the accident, and after the débris had been collected by the scandalized butler, the Squire asked Mr. Phelps what he meant.
"It is hard to say what I mean." The Rector sipped his port meditatively. "Marlow was always a mystery to me. Undeniably a millionaire and a gentleman, Alan, and while here a man of clean life. And I have met people in London"--the worthy parson dabbled a little in shares--"who knew him in South Africa. He was highly respected there, and he made his millions honestly, so far as millions can be made honestly in these gambling days. But I always felt that there was some mystery about the man. It was Warrender who gave me the clue."
"Ah! Warrender came with Marlow to Heathton."
"Yes, but there was no mystery about that. Warrender told me that he had met Marlow at Kingston, Jamaica. Afterwards the doctor settled in New Orleans. There he met his wife, who was on the stage. He did not do very well, so Mrs. Warrender urged him to return to England. He did so, and met Marlow by chance in London, where they renewed their acquaintance. Sorry to see that Warrender was so unfortunate, Marlow brought him down here, where he did very well."
"I don't think he did well enough to have supplied Mrs. Warrender with her diamonds, sir."
"Alan, don't speak evil of the dead. She did not get the diamonds from Marlow, but legitimately, my dear boy, from her husband."