"Seymour," he said, "more than ever there is a need for us strictly
to avoid preconceptions. We must not make up our minds that this man
is Colonel Clay--nor, again, that he isn't. We must remember that we
have been mistaken in _both_ ways in the past, and must avoid our
old errors. I shall hold myself in readiness for either event--and
a policeman in readiness to arrest them, if necessary!"
"A capital plan," I murmured. "Still, if I may venture a suggestion,
in what way are these two people endeavouring to entrap us? They
have no scheme on hand--no schloss, no amalgamation."
"Seymour," my brother-in-law answered in his board-room style, "you
are a great deal too previous, as Medhurst used to say--I mean,
Colonel Clay in his character as Medhurst. In the first place, these
are early days; our friends have not yet developed their intentions.
We may find before long they have a property to sell, or a company
to promote, or a concession to exploit in South Africa or elsewhere.
Then again, in the second place, we don't always spot the exact
nature of their plan until it has burst in our hands, so to speak,
and revealed its true character. What could have seemed more
transparent than Medhurst, the detective, till he ran away with our
notes in the very moment of triumph? What more innocent than White
Heather and the little curate, till they landed us with a couple
of Amelia's own gems as a splendid bargain? I will not take it for
granted _any_ man is not Colonel Clay, merely because I don't happen
to spot the particular scheme he is trying to work against me.
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