“Rob me? He could not rob his own brother, Warburton!”

“Your pardon, Mr. Carstares⁠—you are right: his lordship could not rob a brother. Yet have I known a man do such a thing.”

For a long minute there was no word spoken. The suspicion that had dwelt latent in Carstares’ eyes sprang up again. Some of the colour drained from his cheeks, and twice he passed his tongue between his lips. The fingers of his hand, gripping a chair-back, opened and shut spasmodically. Rather feverishly his eyes searched the lawyer’s face, questioning.

“John told you⁠—told you⁠—” he started, and floundered hopelessly.

“His lordship told me nothing, sir. He was singularly reticent. But there was nothing he could tell me that I did not already know.”