"He carried that secret, whatever it was, with him to the grave," Fetherston said reflectively. "I wonder what it could have been?"
"Ah!" sighed the girl, her face yet paler. "I wonder—I constantly wonder."
"The doctors who made the post-mortem could not account for the death, I believe. I have read the account of the inquest."
"Ah! then you know what transpired there," the girl said quickly. "I was in court, but was not called as a witness. There was no reason why I should be asked to make any statement, for Barker, in his evidence, made no mention of the letter which the dead man had sent me. I sat and heard the doctors—both of whom expressed themselves puzzled. The coroner put it to them whether they suspected foul play, but the reply they gave was a distinctly negative one."
"The poor fellow's death was a mystery," her companion said. "I noticed that an open verdict was returned."
"Yes. The most searching inquiry was made, although the true facts regarding it were never made public. Sir Hugh explained one day at the breakfast-table that in addition to the two doctors who made the examination of the body, Professors Dale and Boyd, the analysts of the Home Office, also made extensive experiments, but could detect no symptom of poisoning."
"Where he had dined that night has never been discovered, eh?"
"Never. He certainly did not dine at the club."
"He may have dined with his lady visitor," Fetherston remarked, his eyes fixed upon her.
She hesitated for a moment, as though unwilling to admit that Bellairs should have entertained the unknown lady in secret.