“I’ve seen his face before,” he muttered. “Why, of course, the young doctor. What does he want?”
Capel was thinking of the fortune that had slipped through his fingers. Depressed, and yet at times overjoyed, for Katrine’s glance had been full of hope. But he must trace the money that had been taken, and the gems—how lovely they would look on Katrine’s neck!
He sighed as he pictured her thus adorned, and he was sinking into a day dream, when the door opened softly, and Preenham entered with the doctor’s card.
“Doctor Heston? Show him up.”
Capel motioned his visitor to a chair, when the keen-looking young doctor, who was watching him narrowly, said:
“I dare say you are surprised to see me here.”
“Oh, no. A call?”
“I only make professional calls, Mr Capel, I have come to you on an important matter.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Capel.
“Yes. Respecting the death of one of those two men—the Indian, sir. I’m afraid there was some foul play there.”