"Very true," said Fanks, in a desponding tone; "I am as much in the dark as ever. At the present moment we can build up a theory on anything. For instance, I might say that our friend Garth here killed his cousin."
"The deuce!" cried Garth, aghast.
"You are startled," said Fanks, keenly watching the effect of his speech on the young man. "I don't wonder at it. I merely say this to show how slow you should be in condemning Hersham."
"But I don't see how you could bring me in," stammered Garth.
"It is easy enough. You are the heir, failing Sir Louis; you know the purport of that tattooed cross. You might have killed your cousin, and have sent the appointment from Taxton-on-Thames to implicate Sir Louis in the matter, and so have removed the two people between you and the title at one sweep."
"But I don't want the title."
"Possibly not; but you want money. But do not look so afraid, Garth. I don't think you committed the crime; you are no doubt as innocent as Mr. Herbert here."
"If I had committed the crime I should not deny it," said Herbert, gloomily. "I should glory in causing the death of such a scoundrel. If Fellenger had not been killed by the negro in Tooley's Alley, Mr. Fanks, you might have had to arrest me as the cause of his death. As it is, my revenge has been taken out of my hands. But the same end has been arrived at. I am glad the blackguard is dead."
Here the argument ended, and Fanks went out arm in arm with Garth. Both of them were sorry for the unhappy Herbert Vaud, and both of them were more puzzled than ever over the case. As yet all evidence had failed to throw the least gleam of light on the subject.