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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Then you and I will search for it diligently, and the police will never suspect the real reason of our investigation. To-morrow I shall write to you telling you about my loss, and you will come over to Rannoch and offer to help me." I was silent for a moment. "Is Mr. Woodroffe back at the castle? I heard he was to return to-day." "No. I had a letter from him from Bordeaux a week ago.
"They killed the woman, and believed they had also killed her husband, eh?" he said bitterly through his teeth, and I saw that his strong hands grasped the arms of his chair firmly. "And Martin Woodroffe is engaged to Muriel Leithcourt. Are you certain of this?" "Yes; quite certain."
Philip Leithcourt, and among those on board cruising for pleasure were Mr. Martin Woodroffe, Mr. Hylton Chater, and the owner's wife and daughter Muriel. "Muriel and I met first at a tennis-party, and afterwards frequently at various houses in Malta, for anyone who goes there and entertains is soon entertained in return.
Then immediately after you had left, Woodroffe, Chater and Mackintosh went ashore and were away a couple of hours in the middle of the night. Just before they returned the Baron rapped at the door of my cabin saying that he must go ashore, and telling me to dress and accompany him. He would never allow me the luxury of a maid, fearing, I suppose, that she might learn too much.
"My father suspected Woodroffe of being the assassin in Rannoch Wood, for he knew that he had broken away from the original compact, and had now allied himself with Oberg. Yet it was also my father's object to appear in fear of them, because he was only awaiting an opportunity to lay plans for poor Elma's rescue from Finland.
She compelled me to remove my coat, and tea was served by a Tartar footman, whose family she explained had been serfs of the Zurloffs for three centuries, and then Elma exchanged confidences with her by means of paper and pencil. "Who is this man Martin Woodroffe, of whom she speaks?" asked the Princess presently, turning to me.
"He was not a guest of Leithcourt when this man representing Santini was assassinated?" asked Kampf, again stroking his beard. "No. As soon as Woodroffe recognized me as a visitor he left for Hamburg."
"She says she wishes this Mr. Woodroffe, whoever he is, to know that she has kept her promise and has not divulged it. This only bears out what I have all along suspected." "What are your suspicions?"
There used to be only three Judges, First or Chief, Second, and Third, and I recollect some time after my arrival in Calcutta one of the first incumbents of the office of the Chief Judge was the late Mr. J.T. Woodroffe, Advocate-General of Bengal, and father of Sir J.G. Woodroffe, Judge of the High Court.
But look here, Gordon, I'm not going to stand by and let that scoundrel Woodroffe marry Muriel." "You love her, perhaps?" I hazarded. "Yes, I do love her," he admitted. "And, by heaven!" he cried, "I will tell the truth and crush the whole of their ingenious plot. Have you met Elma Heath?" he asked. "Yes," I said in quick anxiety. "Then listen," he said in a low, earnest voice.
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