“No, I don’t. A woman couldn’t have been about the place without being remarked—or got clear off, as a man might.”
“There are the servants. Could the murderer be one of them?”
“I do not think so, sir. I’ve taken stock of them all—stables—lodges—everywhere. I never met with such a superior set of servants. The person at the west lodge is a lady bred and born, I should say. She gave me a good deal of information about the household. I consider her a remarkably intelligent woman, and I know she is of my opinion as to the motive of the murder.”
“And yet if I tell you that Sir Godfrey had not an enemy in the world?” said Theodore, dwelling on the main point, and not particularly interested in what the highly-intelligent Mrs. Porter might have said upon the subject.
“I should tell you, sir, that no man can answer for another man. There is something in the lives of most of us that we would rather keep dark.”
“I don’t believe there was any dark spot in Sir Godfrey’s life. But what if there were an enemy of Lord Cheriton’s—a man who has been a judge is in a fair way to have made enemies—a foe vindictive enough to strike at him through his son-in-law, to smite him by destroying his daughter’s happiness? She is his only child, remember, and all his hopes and ambitions centre in her.”
“Well, Mr. Dalbrook, if there was such a man he would be an out-and-out blackguard.”
“Yes, it would be a refinement of cruelty—a Satanic hate; but such a man might exist. Remember the murder of Lord Mayo—one of the wisest and most beloved of India’s rulers. The wretch who killed him had never seen his face till the day of the murder. He thought himself unjustly condemned, and he killed the man who represented the Power which condemned him. Might not some wrong-headed Englishman have the same vindictive feeling against an English judge?”
“Yes, it is possible, no doubt.”
“My cousin, Lady Carmichael, has another theory.”