Czytaj książkę: «The Secret Passage», strona 11

CHAPTER XVI
JULIET'S STORY

Instead of answering, Jennings looked at Mallow. "It was the merest chance I glanced at the wall and saw that one of the arms which form that trophy was missing. It was also a chance that I suggested the blank space might be filled up with this knife. Are you sure it is your property?"

Mallow with a puzzled expression took the weapon in his hand and examined it closely. "It is mine," he admitted, "on the butts of my revolvers you will find I carve these notches. I also did so on this bowie, which I bought in New York when I went on my last big-game shoot to the Rockies. I marked my things in this way so that the other fellows should not use them by mistake. I brought back this knife, and although it is not a pretty ornament, I fixed it up on the wall yonder. I used it to cut up game. But if you did not take it off the wall – and I confess I never missed it until you drew my attention to the fact that it was missing – where did you get it?"

Jennings scarcely knew what to say. Cuthbert talked of the matter in so easy a manner that it was impossible to think he had killed Miss Loach. Also he was not the sort of man to murder an inoffensive old woman, the more especially as he – on the face of it – had no motive to commit so brutal an act, or to jeopardize his neck. Struck by his friend's silence, Mallow looked up suddenly. Whether he read the truth in Jennings' eyes or the recollection of Jennings' profession brought the Crooked Lane crime into his mind, it is impossible to say. But he suddenly grew pale and dropped the knife with a look of abhorrence.

"Yes," said Jennings, in reply to his mute inquiry, "that is the knife that was used to stab Miss Loach."

"This knife?" said Mallow, with a gasp, "but how the dickens," he used a stronger word, "did my knife come to be used in that way?"

"I should like you to explain that," said the detective icily.

"Good heavens, Jennings, you don't think – "

"What am I to think," said Jennings coldly, "I swear I never suspected you, Mallow. To own the truth, I don't suspect you now, but for your own sake – for your own safety, explain how that knife came to be in Miss Loach's house."

"I can't say," cried Cuthbert, vehemently, "really I can't. I swear I never missed it until you drew my attention to the blank left in the trophy of arms yonder." He flung himself into a seat, and passed his hand through his hair with a bewildered air. "Surely, Jennings, you do not think me guilty of killing that poor wretch?"

Jennings stretched out his hand, which Mallow grasped. "There is my answer," said the detective, "of course I don't suspect you. The mere fact that you own the knife is yours shows me that you are innocent. But the fact that this particular weapon was used reveals to me the strange behavior of Miss Saxon – her motive, I mean."

Cuthbert jumped up. "What has Juliet to do with this?" he asked.

"I went to see her," explained Jennings rapidly, "and was shown up to the attic of Rose Cottage by Mrs. Pill. Miss Saxon was standing on a chair with her hand on the cornice. I managed to place my hand in the same place – it matters not how – and there I found that."

"This knife?" Cuthbert, still bewildered, took up the formidable weapon. "But how did she become possessed of it?"

"You must ask her that."

"I? Why did you not ask her yourself?"

"She would have lied to me – for your sake."

"For my sake? Do you mean to say she thinks I am guilty?"

"Yes, I do," said Jennings decisively.

"It's an infernal lie! I don't believe Juliet would think me such a blackguard unless she did not love me – and she does love me."

"Of course," interposed Jennings swiftly, "so much so that she has concealed this knife so as to – as she thinks – save you. Now, can you not see why she asked you to proceed no further in the case for your – own sake. I thought she was shielding her brother. It is you she believes guilty – "

"And therefore will not marry me?"

"No. I don't think for one moment she cares about that. When a woman loves a man she will stick to him through thick and thin. If he is a regular Cain, she will marry him. Bless the whole sex, they are the staunchest of friends when they love. No, Mallow, in some way Mrs. Octagon has learned that you have killed her – "

"But I never did – I never did. I told you everything."

"What you told me may have been told to Mrs. Octagon with additions. She thinks you guilty, and therefore has threatened to denounce you unless Juliet gives you up. She has done so, therefore Mrs. Octagon holds her bitter tongue."

"But her reason for wishing to break off the marriage."

"We discussed that before. In the first place, you are Caranby's nephew and she hates him. In the second, she and Basil want the fingering of the six thousand a year left by Miss Loach. Should you marry Miss Saxon, they know well you will look after her interests, therefore they don't wish the match to take place. I am not quite sure if this is Basil's plan, or if he knows so much, but I am quite certain that the scheme is of Mrs. Octagon's concoction. But now you can see why Miss Saxon behaved so strangely."

"She has no right to take up such a position," cried Cuthbert, with a fierce look. "She should have been plain with me and have accused me to my face."

"Do you think a woman cares to accuse the man she loves? Besides, Mrs. Octagon may have forced her to keep silence, so as to make the matter more difficult for you. The only way in which you can clear up matters is to see Miss Saxon and insist on an explanation."

"And if she won't give it?"

"I think she will this time," said Jennings with a grim smile. "By now she must have discovered her loss, and she knows well enough that the knife is in my possession. Already she knows that I threatened to arrest you – "

"But you would never do that."

"I would if it meant the clearing of your character. I tell you, Mallow, you are in danger. There is a conspiracy against you, and the using of your knife to kill that old woman proves it. To prepare the ground for an accusation, someone stole it. You must fight, man, or your enemies may bring about your arrest, in spite of all I can do."

Mallow dropped into his seat, flushed and angry.

"I have no enemies," he muttered, trying to collect his wits.

"Yes, you have, and of the worst kind. Two women are against you."

"Two women? Mrs. Octagon, I know, hates me as Caranby's nephew and because she wants to handle this money. But the other?"

"Maraquito Gredos."

"Bosh! She loves me. I am sure she has worried me enough."

"Of course she loves," said Jennings satirically. "She loves you so deeply that she would see you on the scaffold rather than let you marry Miss Saxon. That is why Mrs. Octagon went the other night to see her. Mrs. Herne gave a different version, but – "

"How do you know Mrs. Octagon went to see Maraquito?"

"Your uncle saw her. Sit down, Mallow." Jennings gently pushed back the astonished man into his seat. "Listen while I tell you all I have discovered lately."

Mallow listened in silence, and saw very truly that Maraquito would stick at nothing to gain her ends. However, he made no remark. "Now," went on Jennings, "it may be that Maraquito hired someone to kill Miss Loach and is trying to put the blame on you so that she may entangle you in her net. It will be either the gallows or marriage with you. Of course she could not kill the woman herself, but her aunt, Mrs. Herne – "

"She was out of the house an hour before the blow was struck."

"Quite so," rejoined Jennings dryly, "but she may have come back again. However, the main point is, that Maraquito in some way is working with Mrs. Octagon on this basis to prevent your marriage. In this way they have impressed Miss Saxon that you are guilty, and they have shown her this knife. This evidence she retained in order to save you and at the price of her marriage."

"It might be so," said Mallow, dazed with this view of the case. "I certainly seem to be in a hole. If I could see Juliet – but her mother prevents me."

"I have a plan to bring you together. I am engaged to a girl called Miss Garthorne. She is the niece of an old dancing master who taught Maraquito – "

"Le Beau?"

"The same. Well, I learn from Peggy – that is Miss Garthorne's name – that she was at school for a few months with Miss Saxon. Peggy, in spite of her poverty, has had a good education, thanks to Le Beau, who loves her like a father. Hence, in spite of the difference in rank, she was brought into contact with Miss Saxon."

"Yes! Yes! I see. But the scheme?"

"Well, Peggy must write to Miss Saxon and ask her to come and see her at the Pimlico Academy. As Miss Saxon was great friends with Peggy, she will come. Then you can talk to her there and learn the truth. Find out who gave her the knife. She will answer, especially if you tell her that, owing to my finding the knife, I am inclined to have you arrested. You understand?"

"Yes," said Cuthbert, a new fire in his eyes, and drawing himself up firmly. "I'll get at the truth somehow, and Juliet will not leave that Academy until I learn it. I have had more than enough of this kind of thing. But how did the knife leave my rooms?"

"Who has called to see you within the last month?"

"Oh, dozens of people."

"Has Mrs. Octagon?"

"No. She never liked me enough to pay me a visit. But Basil – "

"Ha!" cried Jennings, slapping his knee. "I believe Basil may have taken it. He is working with his mother to stop the marriage, and – "

"Stop – stop!" interposed Mallow, coloring, "you are accusing Juliet's mother and brother of being accomplices to a crime. Basil is a fool and Mrs. Octagon is not a nice woman, but I don't think either would kill a woman in cold blood."

Jennings had his own opinion about this. Mrs. Octagon – as was proved by her early history – was capable of doing much, when number one was in question, and Basil was an irresponsible, hysterical fool. In a moment of rage he might have – "But no," said Jennings, breaking off this train of thought. "I can't see the truth. Miss Saxon knows it. You must ask her. Be careful, for your life may depend upon it."

"Bunkum!" said Mallow roughly, "I am not afraid."

"Then you ought to be," said Jennings quickly, "you were down at Rose Cottage on that night and the knife is yours. Certainly you have no motive, but Mrs. Octagon and Maraquito will soon find one, if you don't fall in with their wishes. However, you know what you have to do," and Jennings rose to take his leave, first slipping the knife into his pocket.

"Wait a bit," said Cuthbert, rising. "I'll do what you say. Just drop me a line when the meeting is to be. But I want to tell you – At the Metropolitan Hotel at Brighton I met with my bank manager."

"What of that?"

"He happens to be the manager of the bank where Miss Loach kept her money and where Juliet keeps it now."

"Well," said Jennings, becoming suddenly attentive.

"He didn't tell secrets," went on Mallow, "but we got talking of Basil, and the manager hinted that Basil had had a lucky escape."

"From what?"

"I can't say. The manager – French, his name is – refused to speak more openly, and of course he couldn't. But if Miss Loach had not died, Basil would have got into trouble. He didn't put the matter exactly in these words, but I gathered as much."

"Humph!" said Jennings, his eyes on the carpet, "that supplies a motive for Basil killing the old woman."

"Nonsense, Basil would not kill anything. He is a coward."

"When a rat is in the corner it fights," said the detective significantly. "Basil may have been between the devil, represented by Miss Loach, and the deep sea, which we may call Hale. He may have – "

"No! No! No!" said Mallow, "nothing will ever persuade me that Basil is guilty."

Jennings looked doubtful. He had his own opinion as to young Saxon's capability for crime. "However, the whole case is so perplexing that I fear to name any particular person," said he, taking his hat. "Now I shall see Miss Garthorne and get her to write to Miss Saxon."

Apparently there was no difficulty about this, for in three days he wrote to Mallow, telling him to come to Pimlico on Friday at four o'clock. Juliet was surprised when she received an invitation from an old schoolfellow of whom she had lost sight for years. However, owing to her troubles, she felt the need of some sympathetic soul in whom she could safely confide, and knowing Peggy was one of those rare friends who could keep her own counsel, Juliet readily agreed to pay the visit. She arrived at the Academy shortly before three o'clock, and the two girls had a long talk of their old days. Also Juliet told some of her difficulties – but not all – to Peggy. "And I don't know how things will turn out," said Miss Saxon disconsolately, "everything seems to be wrong."

"They will continue to be wrong unless you act wisely," said Peggy.

"In what way should I act?"

"Stick to Mr. Mallow. He loves you and you love him. I do not see why you should surrender your life's happiness for the sake of your family. Of course you have not told me all," and Peggy looked at her inquiringly.

Juliet shuddered. "I dare not tell you all," she said faintly. "I have to think of other people."

"Think of Mr. Mallow first."

"I am thinking of him."

"Then it is on his account you keep silence."

Juliet nodded. "I must hold my tongue. If you could advise me – "

"My dear," said clear-headed Miss Garthorne, rather impatiently, "I can't advise unless I know all, and you will not trust me."

"I have to consider others," repeated Juliet obstinately; "if Cuthbert knew what I feel – "

"Why don't you tell him? See here, Juliet, you are keeping something back from me. On my part, I have kept something back from you. But I see it is necessary to speak plainly. Juliet, I am engaged."

"Oh, I am so glad," cried Miss Saxon, embracing her friend. "Is he nice?"

"I think so; but I am not sure if you will be of that opinion."

"Do I know him?" asked Juliet, opening her eyes widely.

"You do. Not very well, perhaps, but you know him."

"What is his name?"

"I'll tell you that after you have seen Mr. Mallow."

Miss Saxon rose with rather an offended look. "I have no intention of seeing Mr. Mallow."

"Supposing he was here, would you consent to an interview?"

"I don't dare – I dare not! If he asked questions! – what do you mean?"

"Nothing," said Peggy briskly. "We have joined issue, as the lawyers say. I advise you to speak out and you refuse."

"I don't understand all this. Is Cuthbert here?"

"Yes. To be plain with you, Juliet, a person I know arranged that I should write to you and that Mr. Mallow should meet you here."

Juliet looked annoyed. "Who is interfering with my private business?"

"Someone who can help you."

"No one can help me," retorted Juliet.

"Oh, yes, and the advice of this person is that you should tell the truth to Mr. Mallow."

"Who is this person?"

"I'll tell you that after you have seen Mr. Mallow. He is in the room below."

"This interfering person you refer to?"

"No, Mr. Mallow. Will you come downstairs and see him?"

Juliet drew back as Peggy opened the door. "I dare not."

"In that case you will have to consent to the arrest of Mr. Mallow."

Juliet shrieked. "Cuthbert arrested! For what?"

"For the murder of Miss Loach."

"It is not true – it is not true," gasped Juliet. "Oh, Peggy, what does it all mean? How do you come to know – ?"

"Because I'm engaged to Miles Jennings."

"The detective! The man who behaved so badly to me?"

"I don't know what you call behaving badly," said Miss Garthorne in an offended way. "Miles wishes to help you out of your difficulties, and you will not allow him. No! Don't ask questions. I refuse to answer. Miles told me all about the case and I know everything – "

"Then you know that he came the other day to Rose Cottage and – "

"I know everything," said Peggy, leaving the room; "and if you are wise you will come with me."

When Peggy disappeared, Juliet hesitated. She really could not speak to Cuthbert, and resolved to steal out of the trap into which she had been inveigled by the treacherous Peggy. On the other hand, things were becoming so serious that she knew she would have to speak out sooner or later, especially as Cuthbert was in danger of arrest. But even if she confessed all, could she save him? "I should only make matters worse," thought Juliet, descending the stairs, "he'll thank me some day for holding my tongue. I'll go."

So she arranged, but meantime Peggy had informed the waiting Mallow of Juliet's strange behavior. Determined to make her speak, and anxious to arrive at some understanding, Cuthbert waited at the foot of the stairs. Juliet, coming down, ran straight into his arms, and turned white.

"You!" she gasped, retreating, "you are here after all."

"Did you not hear Miss Garthorne tell you so?" asked Cuthbert.

"Peggy is behaving very wickedly."

"It is you who are behaving badly," said Mallow bluntly, "you know much about this case and you are keeping me in the dark."

"It is for your own good," murmured Juliet.

"You should allow me to be the best judge of that. Come in here," and Cuthbert drew her towards the open door of the dancing-room, "tell me what you know and how it affects me."

The room was large and bare and empty. At one end there was a kind of dais on which was placed a few chairs. The young man walked up to this and turned to beckon Juliet, for whom he placed a chair. She still lingered at the door and seemed disposed to fly.

"Juliet, if you go now, all is over," he said determinedly.

"Cuthbert, how can you?"

"Because I mean what I say. Things can't go on like this. You think of your brother – of your mother. You never give a thought to me."

Juliet came up the room hurriedly. "I am thinking of you all the time, Cuthbert," she said angrily, "I keep silence for your good."

"In what way?"

"This murder – " she began. Then her voice died away, "you know – "

"I know that Miss Loach was murdered, but who did it I don't know."

"Oh," Juliet dropped into a chair, "are you innocent?"

"Surely you never thought me guilty?"

"I – I – don't think you are, and yet – "

"You are going to accuse me of having been on the spot?"

Juliet could restrain herself no longer. "I saw you myself," she burst out; "I was there also."

CHAPTER XVII
JULIET'S STORY CONTINUED

Cuthbert was so surprised by this admission that astonishment held him silent for a moment. He never expected to hear that Juliet herself had been on the spot. Seeing this, she went on quickly. "Now you can understand why I held my tongue. You were at Rose Cottage on that night. You have enemies who know you were there. I have been threatened should I insist on our engagement being fulfilled that you will be arrested. Therefore I kept away and held my tongue."

"But if you had told me this long ago – "

"How could I?" she cried vehemently. "Could I come and say to you, I believe you are a murderer?"

"Did you believe that, Juliet?" he asked in a grieved tone.

"Yes and no," she faltered. "Oh, Cuthbert, you know how I love you. I could not bring myself to think you were guilty – and yet the proofs are so strong. You were at Rose Cottage at a quarter to eleven – "

"No. I was there at a quarter past ten."

"I tell you I saw you at a quarter to eleven. You were getting over the wall into the park. Then there was the knife – your knife."

"How did you know it was mine?"

"By the notches. You told me you always cut three notches on the handle of any weapon you possessed. One day when mother and I came to afternoon tea at your place you showed me some of your weapons – the knife amongst them. One knife is much like another, and I would not have noticed but for the notches and for the fact that I saw you on that night. I hid the knife and Mr. Jennings – "

"He found it," said Mallow. "Quite so. He told me he did. When you left the attic he contrived to – "

"Then the closing of the door was a trick," said Juliet in an agitated tone. "I might have guessed that. He took the knife. He has threatened to arrest you, so Miss Garthorne says."

"She says rightly," replied Mallow, thinking it best to make use of all he knew, so as to force her to speak freely. "But of course, if you can explain – "

"Explain!" she cried wildly and sinking into a chair. "What can I explain? That I saw you climbing that wall, running away apparently from the scene of your crime. That I found the knife by the body?"

"What!" Cuthbert started up and looked at her. "You saw the body?"

"Yes. I was in the house – in the room. I found my aunt dead in her chair, with the cards on her lap, exactly as the parlor-maid saw her. Near her on the floor was the knife. There was blood on the blade. I picked it up – I saw the handle was notched in three places, and then – "

"Then you suspected me."

"No. Not till I saw you outside."

Cuthbert took a turn up and down the dais much perplexed. "Juliet," he said. "I swear to you I never killed this woman."

Juliet flew to him and folded him in her arms. "I knew it – I knew it," she said, "in spite of the letter – "

"What letter?"

"That accusing you and threatening to tell the police about you if I did not break the engagement."

"Who wrote it?"

"I can't say, save that it must have been some enemy."

"Naturally," replied Mallow cynically. "A friend does not write in that way. Have you the letter with you."

"No. It is at home. I never thought of bringing it. But I will show it to you soon. I wish now I had spoken before."

"I wish to heaven you had!"

"I thought it best to be silent," said Juliet, trying to argue. "I feared lest if I spoke to you, this enemy, whosoever he is, might carry out the threat in the letter."

"Is the letter written by a man or a woman?"

"I can't say. Women write in so masculine a way nowadays. It might be either. But why were you at the cottage – "

"I was not. I went to explore the unfinished house on behalf of Lord Caranby. I was ghost-hunting. Do you remember how you asked me next day why I wore an overcoat and I explained that I had a cold – "

"Yes. You said you got it from sitting in a hot room."

"I got it from hunting round the unfinished house at Rexton. I did not think it necessary to explain further."

Juliet put her hand to her head. "Oh, how I suffered on that day," she said. "I was watching for you all the afternoon. When you came I thought you might voluntarily explain why you were at Rexton on the previous night. But you did not, and I believed your silence to be a guilty one. Then, when the letter arrived – "

"When did it arrive?"

"A week after the crime was committed."

"Well," said Cuthbert, rather pained, "I can hardly blame you. But if you loved me – "

"I do love you," she said with a passionate cry. "Have I not proved my love by bearing – as I thought – your burden? Could I do more? Would a woman who loves as I do accuse the man she loves of a horrible crime? I strove to shield you from your enemies."

"I thought you were shielding Basil. Jennings thought so also."

Juliet drew back, looking paler than ever. "What do you know of him."

"Very little," said Cuthbert quickly. "Was he at Rose Cottage on the night in question?"

"No. He was not there. I did not see him."

"Yet he was at the Marlow Theatre with you."

"Yes. He left the theatre before I did."

"Sit down, Juliet, and tell me exactly how you came to be at Rose Cottage on that night and why you went."

Miss Saxon seated herself and told all she knew. "It was this way," she said, with more calmness than she had hitherto shown. "Basil and I went to see this new melodrama written by Mr. Arkwright – "

"What? The man Mrs. Octagon wishes you to marry?"

"Yes. He has written a play to make money. My mother was angry, as she thought such a thing was not worthy of him. He sent her a box. She refused to go, so Basil and I went. But the play was so dull that Basil left early, saying he would come back for me."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. He did not say. Well, the play became worse instead of better. I was weary to death, so I thought as the theatre was near Rexton, that I would go and see Aunt Selina. Then I hoped to return to the box and meet Basil. I was told the play, being a long one, would not be over till midnight. I left the theatre at a quarter past ten. It took fifteen minutes to drive to the cottage. Then I entered quietly to give aunt a surprise."

"Ah! It was you opening the door that Thomas heard."

"Yes! At half-past ten; I had a latch-key. Aunt Selina loved me very much and wanted me to come and see her whenever I could. So that I could come and go at pleasure without troubling the servants, she gave me a latch-key. I happened to have it in my pocket. I really wished to see her about this quarrel she had with Basil."

"What was this quarrel about?"

Juliet deliberated before replying. "It was a small thing," she said at length. "Aunt Selina was fond of Basil and often gave him money. Mr. Octagon doesn't allow Basil much, and mother has enough to do to make both ends meet. Basil is, I fear, extravagant. I know he gambles, though he never told me where he went – "

"To Maraquito's," said Cuthbert. "I have met him there."

"I know," said Juliet in rather a reproachful tone. "I wish you would not gamble, Cuthbert."

"I have given it up now. I only played for the excitement, but since our engagement I have hardly touched a card. I shall not play for money again. My visits to Maraquito's now are purely in the interests of this case."

"Does she know anything about it?" asked Juliet, astonished.

"Yes," replied Mallow, wondering if the girl knew that Mrs. Octagon had paid a visit to Senora Gredos. "Mrs. Herne, who was your aunt's friend, is the aunt of Senora Gredos."

"I never knew that. But about this quarrel. Basil spent more money than he could afford, poor boy – "

"Young scamp," murmured Cuthbert.

"Don't blame him. He means well," expostulated Juliet. "Well, aunt gave him a lot of money, but he always wanted more. Then she refused. About a week before Aunt Selina died, Basil wanted money, and she declined. They had words and she ordered Basil out of the house. It was to try and make it up between them that I called on that night."

"Are you sure Basil did not go also?"

"I don't think so," said Juliet doubtfully. "He was on bad terms with Aunt Selina and knew he would not be welcomed. Besides, he had not a latch-key. Well, Cuthbert, I reached Rose Cottage at half-past ten and let myself in. I went downstairs quietly. I found Aunt Selina seated in her chair near the fire with the cards on her lap, as though she had been playing 'Patience.' I saw that she was dead."

"Why did you not give the alarm?"

Juliet hesitated. "I thought it best not to," she said faintly.

It seemed to Mallow that she was keeping something back. However, she was very frank as it was, so he thought it best not to say anything. "Well, you saw she was dead?"

"Yes. She had been stabbed to the heart. There was a knife on the floor. I picked it up and saw it was yours. Then I thought – "

"That I had killed her. Thank you, Juliet."

"No, no!" she protested. "Really, I did not believe that at the time. I could not think why you should kill Aunt Selina. I was bewildered at the time and then – " here Juliet turned away her head, "I fancied someone else might have killed her."

"Who?"

"Don't ask me. I have no grounds on which to accuse anyone. Let me tell you what I can. Then you may think – but that's impossible. Cuthbert, ask me no more questions."

Mallow thought her demeanor strangely suspicious, and wondered if she was shielding her mother. Mrs. Octagon, who hated Selina Loach, might have struck the blow, but there was absolutely no proof of this. Mallow decided to ask nothing, as Juliet requested. "Tell me what you will, my dear," he said, "so long as you don't believe me guilty."

"I don't – I don't – really I don't. I picked up the knife and left the room after ten minutes. I stole up the stairs and shut the door so quietly that no one heard. You see, the first time I did not trouble to do that, but when I found that aunt was dead I was afraid lest the servants should come and find me there. I fancied, as I had the knife in my hand and had entered by means of the latch-key, that I might be suspected. Besides, it would have been difficult to account for my unexpected presence in the house at that hour."

"I quite comprehend!" said Mallow grimly. "We can't all keep our heads in these difficult situations. Well?"

"I came out into the garden. I heard the policeman coming down the lane, and knew I could not escape unobserved that way. Then if I took the path to the station I fancied he might see me in the moonlight. I ran across the garden by the wall and got over the fence amongst the corn, where I lay concealed. Then I saw you coming round the corner. You climbed the wall and went into the park. After that I waited till after eleven, when the policeman entered the house, summoned by the servants. I then ran round the field, sheltered from observation by the corn, which, as you know, was then high, and I got out at the further side. I walked to Keighley, the next place to Rexton, and took a cab home. I went straight to bed, and did not see Basil till the next morning. He told me he had come home later, but he did not say where he had been, nor did I ask him."

"But I am sure – unless my watch was wrong, that I climbed the wall at a quarter past ten," insisted Mallow.

"You might have climbed it again at a quarter to eleven."

"No! I climbed it only once. Which way did I come?"

"Along the path from the station. Then you walked beside the fence on the corn side, and jumping over, you climbed the wall."

"Certainly I did that," murmured Mallow, remembering what he had told Jennings. "Did you see my face?"

"No! But I knew you by your height and by the light overcoat you wore. That long, sporting overcoat which is down to your heels. Oh, Cuthbert, what is the matter?"

She might well ask this question, for Mallow had started and turned pale. "Nothing! nothing," he said irritably. "I certainly did wear such an overcoat. I was with Caranby before I went to Rexton, and knowing his room would be heated like a furnace, I took every precaution against cold."