The Face of the Abbot | Page 6

wouldn't sleep in that place," he exclaimed, "for twenty contos of reis."
"Then you really believe in the apparition?" I said. "You think it is supernatural?"
He involuntarily crossed himself.
"The tale is an old one," he said. " It has been known for a hundred years that the castle is haunted by a monk who was treacherously murdered there. That is the reason, Miss Sherwood, why your father got it so cheap."
"Supernatural or not, I must get to the bottom of the thing," she said, in a low voice.
De Castro jumped up, an impatient expression crossing his face.
"If you don't want me for the present, Druce," he said. "I have some business of my own that I wish to attend to."
He left the office, and Helen and I were about to follow him when Senhor Sousa suddenly addressed me.
"By the way, Mr. Druce, I am given to understand that you are from the Solvency Inquiry Agency of London. I know that great business well; I presume, therefore, that matters of much interest depend upon this inquiry? "
"The interests are great," I replied, "but are in no way connected with my business. My motive in coming here is due to friendship. This young lady is engaged to be married to a special friend of mine, and I have known her personally from her childhood. If we can clear up the present mystery, Helen Sherwood's marriage can take place at once. If, on the other hand, that terror which hangs over Castello Mondego is so overpowering that Miss Sherwood cannot make up her mind to live there, a long separation awaits the young pair. I have answered your question, Senhor Sousa; will you, on your part, answer mine?"
"Certainly," he replied. His face looked keenly interested, and from time to time he glanced from Helen to me.
"Are you aware of the existence of any motive which would induce someone to personate the apparition and so bring about Mr. Sherwood's death?"
"I know of no such motive, my dear sir. Senhor de Castro will come into ten thousand pounds provided, and only provided, Miss Sherwood takes possession of the property. He is the one and only person who benefits under the will, except Miss Sherwood herself."
"We must, of course, exclude Senhor de Castro," I answered. "His conduct has been most honourable in the matter throughout; he might have been tempted to suppress the story of the ghost, which would have been to his obvious advantage. Is there no one else whom you can possibly suspect?"
"No one--absolutely no one."
"Very well; my course is clear. I have come here to get an explanation of the mystery. When it is explained Miss Sherwood will take possession of the castle."
"And should you fail, sir? Ghosts have a way of suppressing themselves when most earnestly desired to put in an appearance."
"I don't anticipate failure, Senhor Sousa, and I mean to go to the castle immediately."
"We are a superstitious race," he replied, "and I would not go there for any money you liked to offer me."
"I am an Englishman, and this lady is English on her father's side. We do not easily abandon a problem when we set to work to solve it."
"What do you think of it all?" asked Helen of me, when we found ourselves soon afterwards in the quaint, old-world streets.
"Think!" I answered. "Our course is clear. We have got to discover the motive. There must be a motive. There was someone who had a grudge against the old man, and who wished to terrify him out of the world. As to believing that the apparition is supernatural, I decline even to allow myself to consider it."
"Heaven grant that you may be right," she answered; " but I must say a strange and Most unaccountable terror oppresses me whenever I conjure un that ghastly face."
"And yet you have the courage to go to the castle!"
"It is a case of duty, not of courage, Mr. Druce."
For the rest of that day I thought over the whole problem, looking at it from every point of view, trying to gaze at it with fresh eyes, endeavouring to discover the indiscoverable--the motive. There must be a motive. We should find it at the castle. We would go there on the morrow. But, no; undue haste was unnecessary. It might be well for me, helped as I should be by my own agency, a branch of which was to be found in Lisbon, to discover amongst the late Mr. Sherwood's acquaintances, friends, or relatives the motive that I wanted. My agents set to work for me, but though they did their utmost no discovery of the least value was found, and at the end of a week I told De Castro and Helen that I was ready to start.
"We will go early to-morrow morning," I