"Thought what?" asked Vernon impatiently.
"That Diabella and this mysterious Spider are in league."
Vernon dropped into his chair, placed his hands on his knees and stared very hard at the lean, brown face of the soldier. "What do you mean?"
"Listen, and I'll tell you. I am quite sure that you will come to the same conclusion," and Towton in an incisive manner related what had taken place in the fortune-teller's weird apartments.
The effect on Vernon was to produce an extraordinary emotion of mingled dread and relief: dread, because he saw deep and dangerous villainy at work, and relief as now he espied a gleam of light in the darkness surrounding the "Rangoon" crime. He made no remark either during Towton's recital or after it, so that the Colonel grew impatient.
"Well, what do you make of it?" he asked sharply.
"I agree with you that Diabella and The Spider are in league. Perhaps," he rose, much agitated, "perhaps Diabella is The Spider all by herself."
"The Spider I always understood to be a man."
"It is presumed so, but who knows. Diabella may be the real originator of these crimes and may employ men to collect her fees. Then, of course, as a popular fortune-teller, she has every opportunity of learning people's secrets, for those who consult such creatures always give themselves away. A few skilfully put questions and a few dexterous prophecies would make people loosen their tongues. Then a clever woman, putting two and two together, would soon make the four, which means blackmail."
"But how the deuce could she learn this secret of Dimsdale's?"