"Didn't I mention it to you?" said the girl, raising her eyes which were fixed on the ground disconsolately; "no--of course I didn't. It came after you left me--at nine o'clock--no it was at half-past nine. The wire was from my father, saying he would be down the next day. It had arrived at Westhaven at four, and should have been delivered earlier but for the forgetfulness of the messenger."
"But, Eva, if the wire came from your father yesterday, he could not have been shot on Wednesday night."
"No, I can't understand it. I told Inspector Garrit about the wire, and he took it away with him. He will say all that he learns about the matter at the inquest to-morrow. And now my father's wooden hand has been stolen--it is strange."
"Very strange," assented Allen musingly. He was thinking of what his father had said about Mr. Strode's probable enemies. "Eva, do you know if your father brought any jewels from Africa--diamonds, I mean?"
"I can't say. No diamonds were found on his body. In fact his purse was filled with money and his jewellery had not been taken."
"Then robbery could not have been the motive for the crime."
"No, Allen, the body was not robbed." She rose and paced the room. "I can't understand my dream. I wonder if, when I slept, my soul went to the Red Deeps and saw the crime committed."
"You did not see the crime committed?"
"No; I saw the body, however, lying in the position in which it was afterwards found by Jacobs and the others. And then the laugh--that cruel laugh as though the assassin was gloating over his cruel work--the man who murdered my father was laughing in my dream."
"How can you tell it was a man?"