How do you propose to find her, Ware?"
"I don't know.
Wait till I am on my feet again."
"Well," said Morley cheerfully, "I'll give you a clue—the Scarlet Cross."
"Rubbish!
There's nothing in that in spite of the anonymous letter.
What do you know about the matter?"
"Only what Steel told me.
He found a boatman at Gravesend who declared that on the day of the crime—Steel gave him the date—a small steam yacht was lying in the river off the town.
It was called The Red Cross.
The next morning it was gone.
The night was foggy, and no one saw it leave its moorings.
It simply vanished.
What do you make of that, Ware?"
"Nothing at all.
What has this yacht to do with Miss Denham?"
"Can't you see?
The anonymous letter referred to a Scarlet Cross.
Such an ornament was picked up in the church, and the boat was called——"
"The Red Cross—not The Scarlet Cross," interrupted Ware.
"Only a difference of shade," said Morley ironically. "But I am certain that Miss Denham with her companion went on board that yacht.
I can't think how else they escaped."
"Why should this lawyer's clerk have gone on board?"
"That's what Steel is trying to find out.
I expect he will make inquiries of Asher, Son, and Asher's office.
But the name of the yacht, the fact that Miss Denham made for Gravesend, where it was lying, and its appearance and disappearance within twenty-four hours during which the crime was committed shows me that she fled and that she is guilty."
Ware restrained himself with a violent effort.
"Oh," he said ironically, "then you believe that Miss Denham arranged that the yacht should be at Gravesend, ready for her flight, after the death of Daisy."
"It looks like that," assented Morley. "I believe myself that the crime was premeditated."
"And was the fact of my car being at the church gate premeditated?" asked Ware angrily.
"Why not?
Miss Denham knew that your car was coming for you after the service."
"Morley, I admit that things look black, but she is not guilty."
"Humph!
You love her."
"That has nothing to do with it."
"As you will.
Let us say no more on the subject.
I wish to tell you why I came."
"It is sure to be a more disagreeable subject," retorted Giles; then felt compunction for the rude speech. "I beg your pardon, Morley, I am a perfect bear.
But this illness has made me peevish, and the events of the last few weeks have rendered my brain irritable.
Forgive my bad temper."
"Oh, that's all right, Ware," replied his visitor heartily. "I can always make allowances for invalids.
You'll be your old self again shortly."
"I shall never be myself again," replied Giles gloomily.
It was on the tip of Morley's tongue to make some fresh reference to Anne. But he knew that such a remark would only exasperate the invalid; and, moreover, Giles looked so ill and worried that Morley generously refrained from adding to his troubles.
"Let us come to business," he said, taking some papers out of his breast coat-pocket. "Since you were engaged to Daisy I thought it right that you should be made aware of a communication I have received from Asher, Son, and Asher."
"About the summons you told me of?" asked Ware wearily.
He did not take much interest in Morley's affairs.
"No.