'You talk about all sorts of things I don't understand, like those other two, but you say nothing about the only thing I care for. I can't believe that my James is dead--unless he was killed.'
'You would have no difficulty if you'd seen him as I saw him; and as for killing, that's absurd. I don't wish to say anything to pain you, but your words make it necessary that you should be told the truth. When I saw him he was nothing but skin and bone; the mere shadow of what he had been; weak and helpless as a new-born child. The doctors agreed that he must have been dying for weeks, if not months, and that the only marvel was how he had lived so long.'
'Then--then there was witchcraft.'
'Witchcraft? What do you mean?'
I couldn't tell him. I hardly knew myself. Only if what he said was true, and I felt sure that he believed it was, then somewhere there was a mystery which was beyond my understanding. I let Mr. FitzHoward talk to him instead of me.
'Excuse me, sir--or my lord, as it seems you are--but might I ask what the late Marquis is supposed to have died of?'
'Supposed? There is no supposition about it. He died of heart disease.'
'Then give me leave to tell you there's a good deal of supposition about it. Although I'm not a betting man, I'm ready to bet a thousand pounds to a brass button that he did nothing of the kind.'
'Do you add medical qualifications to those others you were speaking of.'
'I do not; but I do add common-sense. I suppose there was a medical certificate? Who signed it?'