"Curberry would not let you?" "No, I think he was puzzled why I wished to go. But he did not ask me any questions."
"I quite believe that," said Dan, grimly; "asking questions was a dangerous game for him to play. However, when he found me in the library, he evidently recalled your desire to go there, and it flashed across him that we were working in consort. No wonder he destroyed the papers on the chance that Penn might have left incriminating evidence behind him."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Lillian, fretfully. "Well," observed Dan, smoothing out the foolscap, "Penn, no doubt, left the clue as to the whereabouts of the confession to you, so that you might learn who murdered your father."
"Ah, I always believed Mr. Penn knew. Is the name in that paper?" she asked eagerly, and leaning forward. "It may or it may not be, dear. You see the greater part of the confession was destroyed by Lord Curberry. He was afraid."
"Dan!" Lillian caught her lover's hand, "you don't think that Lord Curberry killed my father?" "No, no, no!" said Halliday, quickly. "I am sure he did not. However, you shall hear all that I know, and Laurance knows, and all that Mrs. Bolstreath is acquainted with. Only let me read these few sheets first." The girl, on fire with curiosity, would have objected, but that Mrs. Bolstreath touched her shoulder significantly. With an effort to restrain her curiosity, which was creditable considering the circumstances, she nestled into her corner of the carriage, while Dan glanced through the manuscript. In spite of Penn's crooked handwriting--and it was very bad indeed--it did not take much time for the young man to master the contents of the confession. He uttered an exclamation of vexation when he reached the end. "Like a serial story, it breaks off at the most interesting part," he said crossly. "However, I have learned something." "What have you learned?" demanded Mrs. Bolstreath immediately. "All in good time," said Halliday, quietly. "I must first tell Lillian what we both know, and then I can bring our discoveries up to date by saying what is in this confession," and he tapped his breast-pocket, wherein he had placed the sheets. "Now then, Lillian."
"Now then, Dan," she mocked, "just tell me all, for I cannot keep silence any longer."
"You will have to, if you desire to hear the story. Only don't be worried by what I am about to tell you. You are safe with me." Lillian shrugged her shoulders, as if to imply that there was no need for him to state such a plain truth, and looked at him with inquiring eyes. As she appeared to be brave and collected, Dan had no hesitation in relating to her all that he had already told Mrs. Bolstreath, and thus the girl became thoroughly informed of the underhand doings which had taken place since the death of her father. As Halliday explained, her eyes became larger and rounder and more shining. Still the color did not leave her cheeks and although she was intensely interested she did not display any fright. This was creditable to her courage, considering that the revelation hinted at many possible dangers to herself and to her lover. Dan brought the story up to the time they started from London, and then waited to hear her opinion. "It's dreadful and wonderful, and very horrid," said Lillian, drawing a deep breath; "do you think that Mr. Penn murdered my father?"
"No. The evidence of the girl to whom he was dictating letters to be typewritten proves that he did not enter the library at the time when the death was supposed to have taken place."
"Then Lord Curberry? He----"
"I don't believe Lord Curberry, either directly or indirectly, had anything to do with the matter," said Dan, decisively. "Sir Charles approved of his suit rather than of mine, so it was to Curberry's interest to keep your father alive and well. My dear, it was the false Mrs. Brown who killed Sir Charles, and she came as an agent of this ghastly Society of Flies, because he got to know too much about the association."