She was apparently unconscious of the significance of these revelations, but they made a deep impression upon Charles. There was something expectant and cruel in his face as he listened--the aroused instinct of the hunter. He addressed her--
"This bears out what I have believed all along. Thalassa knows about the murder. He is mixed up in it in some way."
"Oh, why do you think that?" she exclaimed, clasping her hand in distress.
"Why?" he echoed. "Because your father was not the man to stand insolence from Thalassa or anybody else unless he had to. Thalassa must have had him under his thumb in some way. Why did I not know of this before? It's clear enough now. Thalassa, even if he did not commit the murder--"
"He did not," she said quickly. "He left the house with me, so he could not have done it."
"Then he knows who did. He and your father shared some secret together--some dreadful secret which brought about your father's death. That is one reason why Thalassa will not speak--because he is implicated in this mystery, whatever it is."
"No, no. He is keeping silence because of me--I feel sure. I made him promise not to tell."
Charles Turold shook his head decidedly. "He may have more than one reason for keeping silent," he said with a swift flash of intuition. "If it is as you say, he is shielding himself as well as you. If your father was killed while Thalassa was out of the house that night, Thalassa knows who did it."
Her eyes met his in an agony of perplexity and distress. "Oh, no, I cannot think you are right," she said. "If I could only see Thalassa--for five minutes--"
"What good would that do?" he abruptly demanded.
"He would tell me the truth--if he knew."
He shook his head incredulously. "You do not know all," he murmured. He shrank from telling her of the marks on her father's arm. "I know Thalassa," she eagerly replied. "He would tell me if he thought it would help me."
"If you think that I will go down and see him--and get it all out of him."
"No, no! You must not go," she cried in affright. "It would not be safe for you."
"Would it be any more dangerous than hiding in London like a skulking rat?" he bitterly replied. "This cannot go on. We are both in a dangerous position, and might be arrested at any moment. What would happen then? Who would believe my story--or yours? They sound improbable even to ourselves. Here, at least, is a chance of discovering the truth, for I most solemnly believe that Thalassa knows it, or guesses it. What other chance have we of finding out the hideous mystery of that night? I must go, Sisily. I will be careful, for your sake."