They were nothing but pawns, moved by the hand of the chief player.

Aye! and John Cavendish was another! The whole foul thing lay before Westcott's imagination in its diabolical ingenuity--Enright's legal mind had left no loophole.

He intended to play the game absolutely safe, so far, at least, as he was personally concerned.
The money was to go legally to John without the shadow of a suspicion resting upon it; and then--well, he knew how to do the rest; already he had a firm grip on a large portion.

Yes, all this was reasonably clear; what remained obscure was the fate of Frederick Cavendish.
Had they originally intended to take his life, and been compelled to change the plan?
Had his sudden, unexpected departure from New York, on the very eve possibly of their contemplated action, driven them to the substitution of another body?
It hardly seemed probable--for a man bearing so close a resemblance could not have been discovered in so short a time.

The knowledge of the existence of such a person, however, might have been part of the original conspiracy--perhaps was the very basis of it; may have first put the conception into Enright's ready brain.