The Third Volume by Fergus Hume

CLAUDE LARCHER was blessed with the best of tempers, and strongly gifted with self-control. He found these virtues very necessary in his profession, especially when in command of a body of men in the wilds. There no trouble ruffled him, no disappointment depressed his spirits; he was always serene and amiable, so that among his comrades his good temper had become proverbial. Had they seen him at this moment they would have found reason to alter their opinion.

The case wore out his patience; he saw no end to the complications arising therefrom. No sooner was one obstacle surmounted than another blocked up the path. But for Tait he would have taken Hilliston's advice long ago, and let the matter lie; but the little man was bent on solving this particularly tantalizing mystery, and so urged his friend to persevere in what seemed to be futile attempts. So far Claude had held to his resolve, but this last letter of Tait's with its budget of new complications threw him into a rage. He vowed that he would throw up the matter as soon as Tait returned. His father was dead, and there was an end of it; after five-and-twenty years nothing whatever could be discovered; and above all there was Jenny.