"Yes, when!" scoffed Cyril. "I don't believe in my father's schemes, I tell you. The last time he came home was five months ago."
"With me," said Durgo gravely; "but I remained near the docks, and my master, Edwin Lister, went to the grand part of the town, coming down to see me when he required my services."
Cyril nodded. "That sounds like my father," he said, with a shrug; "however, on this occasion he told me that he intended to hunt for buried treasure in Nigeria, and wanted money. He did not mention Captain Huxham, so I expect that he intended to keep that part of his business secret. But"—Cyril hesitated—"well, my father—that is, he—he—never mind," he broke off abruptly, "I can't tell you just now. But he wanted the sum of one thousand pounds, which I tried to get for him."
"Oh, Cyril! was that the money you mentioned?" asked Bella in dismay.
"Yes. The sum for which you thought I had killed your father," said Cyril, nodding; then seeing that she looked pained, he hastily added, "Never mind, dear, that is all over, and we understand one another thoroughly. I went to Paris, as you know, to get the money. When I returned I heard of the murder, and when I called at my father's lodgings in the West End could learn nothing of his whereabouts. When you mentioned the double, Bella, it was forced on my mind that my father must have been that person. But, as I could see no connection between my father and Captain Huxham, I refused to believe this. However, from what Durgo says, there seems to be no doubt but that my father did come by stealth to the Manor on that night, with the idea of getting the loan of money. Perhaps he and Captain Huxham quarreled, but it seems clear that my father did commit the murder with that sacrificial knife, since it came, as he did, from Nigeria."
"I never saw that knife," said Durgo abruptly.
"You did not see many things," said Cyril, rising, for he felt somewhat cramped. "My father was probably as secretive with you as he was with me. You are well educated, Durgo, and have your wits about you. Ask yourself if it is possible for two men to have come, on this particular occasion, from Nigeria, and——"
"Two did come," interrupted the negro—"myself and my master."
"Quite so; but if you are innocent, my father must be guilty."
Durgo shrugged his great shoulders. "For myself I think very little of killing anyone," said he gruffly, "but you white men think differently, so you should not believe your father guilty, unless——"