The Rev. Stokesby nodded somberly. His burning eyes, which never left Pons' face, now wore an expression of approbation. The girl smiled faintly.
"I am sorry, Mr. Pons. It is a shock to find that an apparently respectable family contains such a hidden secret. But it explains much that was mysterious and troubled about my father."
I gave Miss Stuart an approving glance.
"It is no disgrace, Miss Stuart," I assured her. "Many families contain a member who goes wrong in one way or another. You are not responsible for your uncle and it is certainly not your family's fault that he turned out so badly."
"Well said, Parker," interjected Solar Pons warmly. "And I am sure that in his own way, Miss Stuart, your father did everything to redress the balance by his Christian work and charity in this parish."
"I can certainly endorse that, Mr. Pons," said the Rev. Isaac Stokesby. "I have never heard such testimony as the terms used by the people of Grassington about my predecessor."
Miss Stuart blushed.
"You are most kind, gentlemen. I promise I will not give way again, no matter what revelations you have to make about my uncle. Please proceed."
Solar Pons gave our client an encouraging look and went on as though he were thinking aloud.
"When your uncle eventually returned to England he sought refuge with his brother. It was while he was staying here at The Old Rectory that a daring scheme came into his mind. It was no less than the major robbery of valuables belonging to Sir Roger Cresswell of Cresswell Manor. He obviously carried it out with the aid of criminal associates. The gang escaped with valuables worth over 10,000 pounds. The haul would be worth considerably more now."
The Rector stared at Pons open-mouthed.
"How do you know all this, Mr. Pons?"
My companion shrugged.
"From my own deductions and the records of Scotland Yard. Friend Jamison has his uses, eh, Parker?"
"Undoubtedly, Pons. But I must confess I am in the dark over a number of things."
"Patience, Parker: It will take only a few minutes to unravel the remaining threads."
Pons turned to Miss Stuart.
"What do you remember of your uncle from your childhood. Miss Stuart?"
"He seemed very kind and amiable, Mr. Pons. He was very fond of antiquities and was often in the church and churchyard."
Solar Pons smiled.
"It was undoubtedly his researches in your church, Rector, which led him to the Cresswell vault."
"What?"
The dark, bearded face looked startled.
"I am afraid, Mr. Stokesby, that you will find your church in some disorder tomorrow. Miss Stuart's uncle, when he committed the robbery at Cresswell Manor in 1912, had the foresight to prepare a hiding place no one would suspect. He hid the valuables in a hamper at the entrance to the Cresswell vault in the side chapel of the church. It has been there to this day; in fact, Parker and I have only recently recovered it. This is what our visitor was looking for. Sir Roger Cresswell was killed on the Somme and buried in France and as he was the last of the line the vault was never again opened."
There was silence in the study and the Rector stared at Solar Pons as though he had been struck dumb. Pons blew out more fragrant smoke and continued imperturbably.
"I do not know how closely he took his criminal associates into his confidence, but I am willing to bet that your uncle was the undisputed leader and told no one of the hiding place. He obviously prepared his groundwork well and secured the spoils at dead of night while your father and family were asleep. He could easily have taken the keys to the church from your father's study.
"The gang had scattered far and wide, of course, but Stuart, as the Rector's brother and a guest at The Old Rectory, would have been above suspicion. From what I have been able to learn from Scotland Yard, your father quite haturally kept his brother's scandalous activities quiet. It is equally obvious that he did not really know anything about them, though he suspected much and at last came to realize his brother's callous and criminal nature. But Stuart is a common enough name and it is no great feat of reasoning to deduce that no one in Grassington would ever have known that their Rector's brother and honored guest was in reality a hardened criminal who had served prison terms in Australia."
Pons got up and paced about as though impelled by the darting quicksilver of his thoughts.
"I am asking you to take a good deal on trust tonight, Miss Stuart, but I have no doubt at all that everything I am telling you is true in all but the most trivial detail."
"But how on earth did you know the late Rector's brother was involved, Pons?" I asked.
Solar Pons shook his head.
"It was the merest suspicion at first, Parker. It arose from a remark of Miss Stuart's regarding a quarrel between the brothers. I could not put a date to it at this distance in time but I became more and more convinced that the breach between the two men came about at the time of the Cresswell Manor affair. Jamison was invaluable here. He said that a convict named Jeremy Stuart had been suspected of the Manor robbery but the police had never been able to prove anything.
"It was while robbing a country house after leaving Grassington that he was caught by the police and sentenced to prison. The Warden at Dartmoor Prison also mentioned Stuart and, as I went over the chain of events and the dates, everything fitted. There was no doubt that Stuart, for his part, had kept his relationship with the Rector of Grassington a secret."
"In order that he could come back and collect the stolen property, Pons?"
"Naturally, Parker. And just in case anything went wrong, he left a clue to its location on a slip of paper in the old Bible in the study here. He undoubtedly read that Sir Roger had been killed and buried in France and realized the vault had never been opened."
Pons again pulled out the sheet with the enigmatic verses and passed them across to Miss Stuart and the Rector. He briefly enumerated the code and pointed out the message he had deciphered.
"All this explains the painful events on that night two years ago when your father met his death, Miss Stuart. We are unlikely to know now the precise reason Stuart came back. He had escaped from Dartmoor and was at liberty for several months. He may have returned to Grassington for the hidden valuables, more likely to take refuge with the brother he hoped would not refuse him the Christian charity he had always found."
Miss Stuart gazed at Pons, her lower lip trembling.
"That was why Daddy… T' she began.
"A heart attack through shock," Pons said quietly. "I cannot prove it but I am certain your father was near the window and had actually picked up that very Bible, unconscious of the message hidden within it. The shock of seeing his brother, an escaped convict, at the window was too much for him. Not only that but the disgrace his wife and daughter would have to face if the scandal ever came out. He had forbidden his brother ever to set foot in the house again and here he was, probably with the police hot at his heels. His heart was weak and he collapsed and died. The expression on his face, which you described so graphically, Miss Stuart, is common in cases of sudden death from heart failure, as you have already indicated, Parker."
"Just so, Pons. But how do you arrive at this conclusion?"
"With the aid of friend Jamison. Prompted by me he did some research in the criminal records. The Dartmoor escape of Stuart took place just two days before the Rector died under such tragic circumstances. And brother Bancroft and the present Warden of Dartmoor have been most helpful. Stuart was recaptured some time afterward, in the London area, and returned to prison."
"But what has all this to do with the man Munro Slater, Pons?"