"All over the country I have people on the watch. They may----"
"Yes, and they mayn't," interrupted the buccaneer. "And how long am I to stay in this rotten hole?"
"Until the inquest is over. It will be held to-morrow. It's strange," went on the sergeant, "that no relative of Sir Hector's has appeared to look after his interests. Yet the case is set forth in the newspapers."
"Wyke has no relatives," said Lemby, grimly plucking at his beard. "The title becomes extinct. If you don't believe me ask Mr. Sandal, of Lincoln's Inn Fields, sergeant. He is Sir Hector's lawyer. I wrote and asked him to come down."
Purse nodded approvingly. "Very wise of you, sir. But why take this trouble?"
"Because I wish to know where the property goes to. Sir Hector should, by rights, leave it to my daughter. He was engaged to marry her."
"Your daughter!" Purse started and stared.
"Yes, dash you! Why shouldn't I have a daughter? Here's the case in a nutshell, and you can make what you can of it." Lemby paused, cleared his throat, and continued. "Sir Hector was engaged to marry my daughter Claudia, though she wasn't overfond of him, since she loved a chap called Craver."
"That's the name of the Rector of this parish!" exclaimed Purse, staring hard.
"It's the son I mean, not the father. Well, then, Edwin Craver loved Claudia; but I refused to allow the marriage as I wanted my daughter to become a lady of title. Sir Hector proposed, and the marriage was to have taken place a month ago, as I insisted that Claudia should become Lady Wyke. Then Sir Hector wrote postponing the marriage, and came down here."