"As it happens, I do. Father is a great stickler for inheritance—or was until Paula got hold of him—and upon his marriage with her, when my brother and I were only children (I am twenty-seven and Ross is twenty-nine), he made this point quite clear to her, I understood, assuring her upon the birth of Cyril of a sufficient income for her own and Cyril's needs when death should claim him for its own.
"Paula, however, has always wanted Aygon Castle; always envied us as its rightful owners; always said what she would do with it if it belonged to her. And now that Ross has taken up with this electrical hobby (an extravagant one, as you no doubt know), he has installed a complete lighting plant in the Castle instead of the musty old lamps which we used to use, and has thereby frightened all the old tenants of the place nearly out of their wits. For they have never seen such a thing before!"
"And yet we live in modern times, and in the year of grace Nineteen-Twenty-Two," said Mr. Narkom quietly.
"But you must remember that our village is miles away from anywhere," she returned quickly. "It is a sort of rock-bound fortress which is almost as impenetrable as the fortresses of old. Miles of heather-covered hills and crags surround us, and the nearest town—Cragnorth—is a three hours' journey away. Many of the villagers have never even seen a train, so that this modern installation of electricity into the old castle is like some witchcraft that terrifies them. Paula has made a tremendous fuss, too, saying that the place is ruined, that it is vandalism, and has so inflamed Father that quarrels take place all the time between him and Ross, and he has threatened to disinherit him if he continues in such mad practices."
Mr. Narkom nodded vigorously several times.
"Aha! now we have come to the root of the affair altogether," he said with some satisfaction. "That was the point I was waiting for. Your father has actually volunteered that statement, Miss Duggan?"
"He has. And in my presence."
"And how does your brother Ross take it?"
"Ross has the family temper, Mr. Narkom. Ross said hot words which he should never have uttered, and then dashed off to his fiancée's house, three miles distant—a sweet girl, whom we all love—and did not come back until the next afternoon."
"I see, I see. A very unpleasant affair altogether. And you, naturally loving your brother, Miss Duggan, have pieced things together, and have now come to me to see what I can do for you? I must have a few minutes to think this over." A finger touched the bell at his side. Almost immediately a head appeared and Mr. Narkom gave his orders. "Tell Mr. Deland to come here, Petrie. I want to speak to him."