"Why, what does it matter?" cried Miranda. "He followed up a clue."
Charnock noticed her hesitation, her effort to evade his question. "But who gave him the clue?"
Miranda moved restlessly about the room. "He set his wits to work--he found out," she repeated. She sat down in the same chair in which Charnock had sat. "What does it matter?" she said, and even as Charnock had done, she pressed her hands upon her face.
"You promised me to answer truly whatever question I put to you," said he, who, the more she hesitated, was the more resolved to know. "I ask you this question. Who gave him the clue?"
"Since you will have it then,"--Miranda drew her hands from her face,--"my poor friend, you did," she answered gently.
Charnock was more than startled. His face changed. There was something even of horror in his eyes as he leaned across the table towards her. "I?" he gasped. "I did?"
"I would have spared you the knowledge of that," she said with a smile, "if only you would have allowed me to; but you would not. You pointed out to him a brigantine, which you passed off Ushant."
"Yes, the Tarifa."
"The Tarifa was once the Ten Brothers, Ralph's yacht which was supposed to have been wrecked on Rosevear."
"But the Ten Brothers was a schooner," urged Charnock. "I was told only a few weeks ago at Gibraltar--one of the Salcombe--oh yes, that's true too. I suggested to Wilbraham--to Wilbraham who said he was familiar with the look of the boat--I suggested to him that the Tarifa was one of the Salcombe clippers."