"Yes, and left that to turn innkeeper. Afterwards he vanished, as I say, and became a pawnbroker in Gwynne Street. Well, the jury at the inquest could not agree. Some thought Lady Rachel had committed suicide, and others that Krill had murdered her. Then the family didn't want a scandal, so in one way and another the matter was hushed up. The jury brought in a verdict of suicide by a majority of one, so you can see how equally they were divided. Lady Rachel's body was laid in the family vault, and nothing more was heard of Lemuel Krill."
"What did Mrs. Krill do?"
"She stopped on at the inn, as she told you. People were sorry for her and helped her, so she did very well. Mother and daughter have lived at 'The Red Pig' all these years, highly respected, until they saw the hand-bills about Krill. Then the money was claimed, but as the circumstance of Lady Rachel's fate was so old, nobody thought of mentioning it till this young lord did so to you, and I—as you see—have hunted out the details."
"What is your opinion, Hurd?" asked Paul, deeply interested.
"Oh, I think Krill murdered the woman and then cut to London. That accounts for his looking over his shoulder, etc., about which we talked."
"But how did he get money to start as a bookseller? Premises are not leased in Gwynne Street for nothing."
"Well, he might have got money on the brooch."
"No. The brooch was pawned by a nautical gentleman." Paul started up. "Captain Jessop, perhaps. You remember?" he said excitedly.
"Ah," said Hurd, puffing his pipe with satisfaction, "I see you understand. I mentioned that about the brooch to hear what you would say. Yes, Jessop must have pawned the brooch at Stowley, and it must have been Jessop who came with the note for the jewels to Pash."