At last, she dropped the letter in her lap and looked up at Croyden.
“A most remarkable document!” she said. “Most extraordinary in its ordinariness, and most ordinary in its extraordinariness. And you searched, carefully, for three weeks and found—nothing?”
“We did,” he replied. “Now, I’ll tell you about it.”
“First, tell me where you obtained this letter?”
“I found it by accident—in a secret compartment of an escritoire at Clarendon,” he answered.
She nodded.
“Now you may tell me about it?” she said, and settled back to listen.
“This is the tale of Parmenter’s treasure—and how we did not find it!” he laughed.
Then he proceeded to narrate, briefly, the details—from the finding of the letter to the present moment, dwelling particularly on the episode of the theft of their wallets, the first and second coming 207 of the thieves to the Point, their capture and subsequent release, together with the occurrence of this evening, when he was approached, by the well-dressed stranger, at Clarendon’s gates.
And, once again, marvelous to relate, Miss Carrington did not interrupt, through the entire course of the narrative. Nor did she break the silence for a time after he had concluded, staring thoughtfully, the while, down into the grate, where a smouldering back log glowed fitfully.