of my mind.
That's the 'case,' Mr. Cleek. Tell me what you think of it."

"I can do that in a very few words, Major," he replied. "It is either a
gigantic swindle or it is a clear case of murder. If a swindle, then
Ulchester himself is at the bottom of it and it will end in murder just
the same. Frankly, the swindle theory strikes me as being the more
probable; in other words, that the whole thing is a put-up game between
Ulchester and the woman Anita; that they played upon Zuilika's fear of
the supernatural for a purpose; that a body was procured and sunk in
that particular spot for the furtherance of that purpose; and if the
widow attempts to put into execution this plan--no doubt instilled into
her mind by Anita--of returning with her wealth to her native land, she
will simply be led into some safe place and then effectually put out of
the way forever. That is what I think of the case if it is to be
regarded in the light of a swindle; but if Ulchester is really dead,
murder, not suicide, is at the back of his taking off, and---- Oh, well,
we won't say anything more about it just yet awhile. I shall want to
look over the ground before I jump to any conclusions. You are still
stopping in the house, you and your son, I think you remarked? If you
could contrive to put up an old army friend's son there for a night,
Major, give me the address. I'll drop in on you there to-morrow and have
a little look round."

II

When, next morning, Major Burnham-Seaforth announced the dilemma in
which, through his own house being temporarily closed, he found himself
owing to the proposed visit of Lieutenant Rupert St. Aubyn, son of an
old army friend, Zuilika was the first to suggest the very thing he was
fishing for.

"Ah, let him come here, dear friend," she said in that sad, sweetly
modulated voice which so often wrung his susceptible old heart. "There
is plenty of room, plenty, alas! now, and any friend of yours can only
be a friend of mine. He will not annoy. Let him come here."

"Yes, let him," supplemented young Burnham-Seaforth, speaking with his
eyes on Senorita Rosario, who seemed nervous and ill-pleased by the news
of the expected arrival. "He won't have to be entertained by us if he
only comes to see the pater; and we can easily crowd him aside if he
tries to thrust himself upon us. A fellow with a name like 'Rupert St.
Aubyn' is bound to be a silly ass." And when, in the late afternoon,
"Lieutenant Rupert St. Aubyn,