After this conversation the detective went away to seek for more evidence, and Darrel remained to muse over all that had been obtained. In spite of all that was known, the case seemed as complicated as ever, and the mystery as deep. If Darrel had been writing this criminal matter as a fiction, his ingenuity would have suggested a fitting ending; but he could not see how Fate intended to work it out. Perhaps Fate designed to leave her matter-of-fact romance unfinished. Perplexed by the problem and the apparent impossibility of its solution, Frank left Fate to conclude her own story, and turned to continue one of his own. In a few moments he was oblivious to all but the words which were rapidly filling the paper before him under the influence of brain and hand.
But it seemed that he was doomed to be interrupted. Just as he was warming to his work, Blake entered to make a morning call; and as there was no chance of writing while this rattle-pated Irishman was in the room, Darrel put away his papers with some vexation.
"Well," said Blake, after the first greeting had passed, "how is the case getting on?"
"We have found some new evidence," replied Darrel; "but none likely to please you."
"Why not?"
"Because it proves beyond all doubt that Miss Hargone sent Julia to that rendezvous."
"Prove it by telling me the evidence," cried Blake flushing.
Darrel was nothing loth. Suppressing the fact that the money had been returned--a fact which Torry did not want known--he told Blake all that Donna Maria had said, and all that Vass had confessed. Roderick listened in silence, but his brow grew black as the story proceeded. When Darrel ended, he said:
"So Vass has the money; I hope he'll be punished for stealing it. As to the black-bearded man, I say now, as I said before, that he is Manuel. That Spaniard, and no other, killed those poor wretches."
"Do you think, from what I have told you, that Miss Hargone knows who went with Julia to Mortality-lane?"