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Updated: June 1, 2025


He felt sure that the Marquess had not seen him in that brief moment, when the old man stood in the doorway; if he had done so, he would certainly have spoken Heyton's name; there was nothing to show that the blow had been dealt by Heyton; with the selfishness of the baser kind of criminal, he had refrained from examining the motionless figure, lest he should be stained by the blood which flowed from the wound.

Heyton's face had coarsened, his lips had grown looser and more sensual, there were bags under his eyes; but it was not these grosser changes which struck Derrick so much, as the expression of the man's face; it was that of one burdened by some oppression of mind or body; it seemed to Derrick that the light, prominent eyes had in them a look of fear, the look a man wears when he is hunted and driven.

Here, wipe it on this, my lord!" In his agitation and embarrassment, Mr. Jacobs actually caught hold of Heyton's hand and pressed it on a sheet of paper. "Tut, tut," he said. "I thought it was blotting-paper! Here it is! I really am so sorry never did such a thing in my life before!" "Damned clumsy of you!" growled Heyton. "I'm in a beast of a mess! Where's a cloth?"

Besides, this other man; they would have questioned him, and he would have exposed himself." "That's true enough; that's what I told Heyton " began Derrick; in his eagerness, unwittingly letting slip Heyton's name, as he had the other evening let slip his own. He broke off and looked down, biting his lip.

There were bundles of papers tied with tape and, at the back of them, a box covered with morocco leather. Heyton's breath came fast and his eyes glistened; he had seen that box once before, and knew that it contained the Sutcombe jewels.

Jacobs nodded; he did not direct a piercing glance at Heyton's pale face and bloodshot eyes, with their swollen lids; in fact, he did not appear to notice anything, as he went forward, hat in hand. A few words of commonplace greeting were exchanged; Mr.

She's pretty enough to deserve a complete fit-out of diamonds, don't you think so?" The Marquess looked up again, half curiously, as if he wondered whether there were any object in Heyton's remark; his lips moved as if he were about to speak; but he closed them again and his eyes went back to his plate.

There is something more on my brother's mind than I am cognisant of. Some secret which worries him," he added. Derrick remained silent. He dared not probe the mystery of the hidden jewel-case, of Heyton's sudden flight; but it was evident to him that Mr. Jacobs intended to conceal any knowledge he might have, and Derrick was only too thankful to concur in that concealment.

Also another most important question was agitating him: What should he do with it? Presumably, it was Heyton's property; and should be returned to him at once. But why on earth should Heyton come out in the early morning to conceal a morocco-covered box under a bush in Thexford Woods? To say that Derrick was suspicious is to express inadequately the feeling that suddenly assailed him.

Mentally cursing his wife, Heyton closed his eyes and tried to think. Strangely enough, his lack of imagination helped him; the imaginative man, in Heyton's position, would have conjured up all the terrible possibilities which environed him; but Heyton's mind was dull and narrow, and so he was able to concentrate on actual facts and actual chances.

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