“There are Carews in Yorkshire,” added the law clerk. “It is doubtless the same family. Did your father leave no papers?”
“None,” I replied.
“He used to wear a small gold locket about his neck,” declared the factor. “Surely you have seen it, Denzil?”
“I remember it,” I said curtly; “but I do not know what was in it, or what became of it. It was missing when my father’s body was found in the woods.”
“That is unfortunate,” said Christopher Burley in a tone that showed a lack of further interest in the matter.
“Very!” assented Captain Rudstone, who was watching me curiously.
I made no reply. I had just recollected that I had in my pocket a seal ring—a trifle too large to wear—which had been my father’s. I fumbled for it, hoping to put an end to a controversy that was distasteful to me. But before I could find and produce it there were hurried steps outside the house and the door was thrown open with a crash.