"I have, indeed," I answered.
"And found a lot of foolish jargon, I suppose?"
"I found a strange story," I answered, "and it has so interested me that I am going to hire a conveyance and drive to Trewinion this very afternoon."
Will muttered something about the man going crazy over silly stories, and then burst out laughing, but still showed considerable interest as I related to him the chief outlines of "the confessions."
After a meal, I started for a twelve-mile drive along the coast, and was able to enjoy to the full the grand scenery that escaped my attention on the afternoon of the previous day. As I drew near to the house, too, I was able to recognize many of the places Roger had mentioned, which made the events connected with them far more real. So real, indeed, were they that once or twice I felt like shuddering as I thought of the feelings that must have possessed him. Especially was this so when I traced the outlines of the "Devil's Tooth," and when I thought I recognized the spot on which Wilfred and Roger had struggled for life.
At length I reached the postern door, which had looked so formidable on the previous day, and was again met by the same men I had seen before. The place did not now seem nearly so strange, and I felt as though I were a friend of the Trewinion family, and as if the old house had been long familiar to me.
Roger Trewinion welcomed me heartily, and I thought I saw in his face some indications of expectancy.
"Well," he said, after I had been seated a few minutes, "you have read the confessions?"
"Yes."
"And what do you think of them?"