's
such a lovely piece that it's hard to believe she's just flesh and
blood, like other women; and I think I never saw such worship for a
man as she had for her husband. This will knock her right bang out."

These opinions made the detective melancholy; but he had not yet
begun to reflect on how the passing of a dearly loved husband would
change the life of Mrs. Pendean. He suddenly felt himself thrust out
of the situation forever, yet resented his own conviction as
irrational.

"What sort of a man was he?"

"A friendly fashion of chap--Cornish--a pacifist at heart I reckon;
but we never talked war politics."

"What was his age?"

"Couldn't tell you--doubtful--might have been anything between
twenty-five and thirty-five. A man with weak eyes and a brown beard.
He wore double eye-glasses for close work, but his long sight he
said was good."

After a meal Brendon went again to Mrs. Pendean; but many rumours
had reached her through the morning and she already knew most of
what he had to tell. A change had come over her; she was very silent
and very pale. Mark knew that she had grasped the truth and knew
that her husband must probably be dead.

She was, however, anxious to learn if Brendon could explain what
had happened.

"Have you ever met with any such thing before?" she asked.

"No case is quite like another. They all have their differences. I
think that Captain Redmayne, who has suffered from shell shock, must
have been overtaken by loss of reason. Shell shock often produces
dementia of varying degrees--some lasting, some fleeting. I'm afraid
your uncle went out of his mind and, in a moment of madness, may
have done a dreadful thing. Then he set out, while he was still
insane, to cover up his action. So far as we can judge, he took away
his victim and meant apparently to throw him into the sea. I feel
only too sure that your husband has lost his life, Mrs. Pendean. You
must be prepared to accept that unspeakable misfortune."

"It is hard to accept," she answered, "because they were good
friends again."

"Something of which you do not know may have cropped up between them
to upset Redmayne. When he comes to his senses, he will probably
think the whole thing an evil dream. Have you a portrait of your
husband?"

She left the room and returned in a few moments with a photograph.
It presented a man of meditative countenance, wide forehead, and
steadfast eyes. He wore a beard, mustache and whiskers, and his