The Disappearing Eye by Fergus Hume — Read

I usually invent my plots, arrange my business and consider my circumstances when in bed, which is by far the best place for such thought-work. Alone in the darkness of the silent hours, there is no external influence to prevent concentration, therefore conclusions of the best can be reached speedier than in the daytime. On the night of my arrival at Burwain, I took advantage of the opportunity to think hard and long. It was necessary that matters should be adjusted clearly in my own mind before I could hope to deal with the situation. After Mrs. Gilfin's report, I desired more than ever to make Gertrude Monk my wife, but there were obstacles in the way, which only deliberate and continuous action could remove. A clear understanding of the position was decidedly imperative.

I now began to see that Anne Caldershaw's hint to her brother had reference to the missing monies of Gabriel Monk. Certainly, even if he had saved every penny of his income for eighty years, he would not have accumulated fifty thousand pounds: but it was more than probable that his visits to London were connected with various investments, and that in one way or another he had gained the fortune mentioned by Mrs. Caldershaw. But -- as I asked myself frequently -- if Monk had invested the money, why was it not discoverable, since investments cannot very well be concealed. On reflection I decided that the man being a genuine miser, loving the color and weight and feel of gold, had probably turned his investments, whatever they might be, into hard cash, and had hidden this carefully away. In some way Mrs. Caldershaw had learned the whereabouts of the specie, and the missing eye indicated the hiding-place.