Craver remembered the truculent manners of the buccaneer, and recalled his dominating personality. "I don't think Lady Wyke will find him such a fool as she imagines. He is quite capable of twisting her neck."
"Oh!" Claudia turned pale. "That sounds as though dad was capable of stabbing Sir Hector."
"He didn't do that," said Edwin decisively.
"How can you be sure?"
Craver hesitated in a most unaccountable manner. "Well, it might be the other fellow who bolted on the bicycle, you know. If there had been any evidence against your father he would have been arrested after the inquest."
"That is true," sighed Claudia, with relief, "But what does Lady Wyke mean by her hints?"
"I'm going to find out. Don't worry."
It was all very well for Craver to give this sound advice, but hard for the girl to take it. Usually she was sensible, but the long continued strain on her nerves was breaking her down. Also she was jealous of her elderly rival, who was clever, rich, and persistent. Of course, Edwin could be trusted, still he was only a man, and men are wax in the hands of women.
Claudia would have liked to go also to Maranatha in order to protect her man from the vile machinations of Lady Wyke, But she could not trust herself. She would be sure to say something or do something which would give her hostess the advantage, so it was wiser to risk nothing. Edwin went alone, and then Claudia returned to her room to spend an uncomfortable hour or so of suspense.
The young man walked briskly along the road and turned into Ladysmith Road about four o'clock. He soon arrived at the square, red bricked mansion and paused to stare at it. Maranatha had been greatly improved by its present tenant. The lawns were trim and clean-shaven; the elms were clipped, and looked more civilised, while the house itself had a more inhabited and less dismal look.