Carwell returned to tell of failure. His nephew had been all that was civil and grateful to him, but he refused altogether to make him his confidant. The farmer had begged and commanded, and threatened, but without success. Jack gave him clearly to understand that he had his own way of conducting his own affairs, and that way he intended to pursue. He was not to be drawn at all. So it was that, heavy-hearted and disappointed, Carwell was obliged to leave the lad. After reporting his failure to Chard, he went home in a state of depression. Half an hour later the inspector left Grimleigh with his prisoner, and drove over to Poldew. In truth it had been an exciting day.
For Poldew, too, Johnson set out early next morning on foot. He was particularly anxious to be present when Finland was brought before the magistrate. He still believed in Jack's innocence, but for the life of him he could not understand his reticence. He stepped out briskly into the cool fresh air, his mind full of the case. He had not gone far before he met Pharaoh Lee. He thought of Slade's theory, and determined to say a word or two to the gipsy.
"Good morning, Lee. I'm glad to meet you," he said gravely. "I particularly wish to speak to you--about Zara."
"Have you news of her, rye?"
"No; but I have been talking to Slade, the policeman, about her."
"Ah, he knows something for sure. Is she with him? Is he her husband? Was it he took her away from me? Speak, rye, speak."
Johnson shook his head. "Slade is married to another woman," he said slowly; "but he thinks that Zara was in love with a man named Jack Finland."
"What, rye? With the Gentile who killed your lady? I have heard talk of him."
"We are not yet able to say if Finland killed my ward, Lee. We have no right, because he stands accused of such a crime, to judge him guilty of it until he has had a fair chance of proving his innocence. He is to be examined at Poldew to-day; in fact, I am now on my way there to be present at his examination. Whether Slade has changed his mind in the mean while, I cannot say; but a day or two back he suspected Zara of this murder!"
"I'll wring his neck for him if he dares to say that," cried Pharaoh in his wrath. "Job! how does he make it out?"