"You do not believe it?"
"I knew Leicester. I saw the state he was in. He was not a happy man before he met Miss Castlemaine, then—well, she became everything to him. Afterwards, when he had by his own act made everything impossible, what was left for him? He would say, 'Let me die, and have done with it.'"
Again Ricordo laughed quietly.
"Were this Sprague and Purvis friends of his?" he asked presently.
"No. He did not like either of them, and he vowed that if either of them ever breathed to Miss Castlemaine anything about the wager, he would be revenged on them."
"And was he the kind of man to leave that vow unfulfilled?"
"I believe he was in such a state of despair that he was tired of life," said Winfield.
"Then you believe that this Radford Leicester is dead?"
"Yes, I believe he is."
They were walking along a ravine. On either side of them rose steep, precipitous cliffs. At their feet a moorland stream gurgled its way to the River Linden.