at I might fully imbue
my mind with the object and wish of the deceased, I asked leave to make
a copy of the letter I had just read. To this Strahan readily assented,
and that copy I have transcribed in the preceding pages.

I asked Strahan if he had yet found the manuscript. He said, "No, he
had not yet had the heart to inspect the papers left by the deceased.
He would now do so. He should go in a day or two to Derval Court, and
reside there till the murderer was discovered, as doubtless he soon must
be through the vigilance of the police. Not till that discovery was made
should Sir Philip's remains, though already placed in their coffin, be
consigned to the family vault."

Strahan seemed to have some superstitious notion that the murderer might
be more secure from justice if his victim were thrust unavenged into the
tomb.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

The belief prevalent in the town ascribed the murder of Sir Philip to
the violence of some vulgar robber, probably not an inhabitant of L----.
Mr. Vigors did not favour that belief. He intimated an opinion, which
seemed extravagant and groundless, that Sir Philip had been murdered,
for the sake not of the missing purse, but of the missing casket. It was
currently believed that the solemn magistrate had consulted one of
his pretended clairvoyants, and that this impostor had gulled him
with assurances, to which he attached a credit that perverted into
egregiously absurd directions his characteristic activity and zeal.

Be that as it may, the coroner's inquest closed without casting any
light on so mysterious a tragedy.

What were my own conjectures I scarcely dared to admit,--I certainly
could not venture to utter them; but my suspicions centred upon
Margrave. That for some reason or other he had cause to dread Sir
Philip's presence in L---- was clear, even to my reason. And how could
my reason reject all the influences which had been brought to bear on my
imagination, whether by the scene in the museum or my conversation
with the deceased? But it was impossible to act on such
suspicions,--impossible even to confide them. Could I have told to any
man the effect produced on me in the museum, he would have considered
me a liar or a madman. And in Sir Philip's accusations against Margrave,
there was nothing tangible,--nothing that could bear repetition. Those
accusations, if analyzed, vanished into air. What did they imply?--that
Margrave was a magician, a monstrous prodigy,