“Well,” he declared, in profound amazement. “I’ve never heard of a stranger adventure than that! Do you mean to say that you’re actually married?”
“Without a doubt. A special licence was obtained and the marriage is, therefore, quite legal. The most remarkable fact of all is, that while I know my wife, she doesn’t know me. To her I’m a perfect stranger.”
“But the fellow, Wynd, whoever he is, is evidently no novice in crime,” Bob declared thoughtfully. “The contraction of the eye was a curious symptom.”
“Yes. It was in the pupil of the left eye.”
“And yet the girl you have met to-day is perfectly sound in both eyes?” he remarked.
“Perfectly.”
“But, my dear fellow, it can’t be! If she were dead, as you say, she can’t, as you yourself know, be still alive.”
“That’s just where the mystery becomes so inscrutable?” I cried. “The woman whom I married evidently died. Indeed, I’d have given a certificate of death and backed it by my professional reputation. Yet she’s alive and well, and I have, only an hour ago, spoken with her.”
“Bless my soul?” cried Bob. “Most extraordinary thing I’ve ever heard of! There must have been some very strong reason why you should marry her, or that scoundrel Wynd would not have offered such a sum. He evidently wished to get her married, and then do away with her for reasons which I hope we shall, some day, be able to discover. The thing’s a complete enigma,” he went on, “and if I can help you to solve it, Dick, I’ll do so willingly. In my opinion there’s a great deal more in this affair than we dream of. The whole thing seems to have been most carefully worked out, and I shouldn’t wonder if her ladyship has not had a hand in the affair. She seems too bold; and therefore I have suspicions of her.”
“So have I, old fellow,” I said. “The strongest suspicions. Her very words have betrayed her.”