"It is most extraordinary," said Clarice, thoughtfully. "Do you mean to say, Mr. Barras, that Uncle Henry had forty thousand pounds in his room when he died?"
Barras placed his finger-tips together and leaned back. "I leave it to you, Miss Baird. Mr. Horran always insisted that I should bring to him two thousand a year of the rents, in gold. I always, according to his wish, paid him in gold. You sent me up the papers from his desk, and, of course, I have all his business letters, deeds, and the rest of such things in my office. But in no case can I find what has become of this forty thousand pounds. When I saw in the papers that no cause could be assigned for the murder of my late client, and recollected that the Purple Fern villains always struck down the rich, it dawned upon me that, instead of investing the two thousand a year, which he regularly received--and in gold," emphasised the lawyer, "Mr. Horran kept the money in his room, and was murdered for its possession."
"But why should he have kept the money in his room?"
"Instead of at the bank, you would say." Mr. Barras shrugged his shoulders again. "Well, my late client must have been a miser--that is all the explanation I can give. But I am certain that he was murdered for the sake of that forty thousand pounds, and that it has been stolen. And now, Dr. Jerce, you will understand why I asked you if your friend was an honest man or a scoundrel."
"An honest man?" said Jerce, energetically. "You have supplied the reason for the money being missed yourself. Horran may have been a miser, although I never noticed that he was; he may have kept this money in his room, and he may have been murdered for it."
"I would have you observe, doctor," said Barras, dryly, "that all your sentences commence with 'may.' This is all theory."
"But if the money has been stolen," suggested Clarice, "it may be traced in some way."
"You can't trace gold, Miss Baird, and Horran always insisted upon having the money in gold. That is what makes me think that he was a miser. I called him a scoundrel--if he spent the money on his own pleasures he certainly was a scoundrel. If, on the other hand, he merely kept the gold to enjoy looking at, and it was stolen from him at the time of his death, he was simply a miser, and has paid, by his painful end, for being a miser. However"--Barras stood up--"there is no more to be said. I think that I have made myself plain, Miss Baird, and whenever you like to come to my office, I shall talk over future money arrangements. Meanwhile, I must prove the will, pay the death duties and legacies, and put things straight. I shall now take my leave."
"Will you not stop to tea or dinner, Mr. Barras?"
"No, I thank you," said the lawyer, stiffly, and, taking up his bag, he walked in a stately manner out of the house. Ferdy rose, and after hesitating for a moment, ran after him quickly. Jerce and Clarice were left alone. "What will you do?" asked Jerce, slowly.