"The hare runs yet on the mountains," said Darrel drily, and took his leave of the jubilant detective to go home and dream of Maria. The interview with her had left him more in love than ever.
Next morning he was hardly awake when Torry, wildly excited, burst into his bedroom, and executed a kind of war-dance. "I've found the tramp who robbed the dead body of Julia Brawn," he cried, "and he gave up this locket, which he took from her neck. See, see! It is of gold, with the letters 'G.V. to J.B.' That is the lover to the lass."
"The lover of Julia Brawn?" said Darrel, jumping out of bed.
"Yes, yes; the man who was with her on that night. The man who killed Grent."
"Look at the initials, G.V.--Gustavus Vass. He is the murderer!"
Here was a discovery. Of all men Torry had least suspected Vass, as he had doubted the courage and nerve of so effeminate a creature. Yet if according to the evidence of the locket, he was the lover of Julia Brawn; and if he had followed her out of jealousy on that fatal night, there was no doubt that he had killed Grent. Torry explained all this to Darrel, as that young gentleman was dressing.
"If this, if that, if the other thing," said Frank doubtfully; "much virtue in if, as Shakspere says. Admitting that Vass was Julia's lover--which certainly seems probable, judging from the initials on the locket--you cannot prove that he was with Julia on that night. She alone could give evidence, and she is dead."
Torry nodded. "I admit there are links wanting," he said; "but as I am absolutely certain that Vass is the man we want, it only remains to force a confession out of him by sheer terror."
The detective smiled meaningly, and from his breast-pocket produced a warrant against Vass.
"I got this an hour ago," he said, "as soon as I learnt the truth from the locket, I have sent a note asking Vass to come here and see you. Then, by means of this warrant, I shall so play on his fears that he will confess the truth."
"And so fall out of the frying-pan into the fire," said Darrel cynically. "If he holds his tongue, you arrest him on suspicion; if he confesses, you arrest him on certainty. So, in either case, he is bound to go to gaol. Silence is golden in his case, Torry; he won't confess."