"Maybe you remember her too—a very fair lady, as used to walk out with the little girl—Mr. Sydney Vane's little girl?"
Cynthia was silent for a moment.
"Yes," she said, at length—"I think I remember her."
"You've seen the child too?"
"Yes"—Cynthia's eyes softened; "I am sure I remember her."
"I'll tell you about her presently. I've got a notion in my head about these Lepels. Miss Lepel, as was, and Mr. Sydney Vane was in love with one another and about to run away from England when he was killed. I know that for a fact, so you needn't look so scared. They was on the point of an elopement when he died—I knew that all along; but, stupid-like, I never thought of putting two and two together and connecting it with his death. It just seemed a pity to throw shame and blame on the dead, seeing as how there was his wife and child to bear all the disgrace; and so I held my tongue."
"But how did you know, father?"
"By using my eyes and my ears," said Westwood briefly—"that's how I knew. They used to meet in that little plantation often enough. I've lain low in a dry ditch more than once when they were close by and heard their goings-on. They were going off next day, when Mr. Vane met with his deserts. And what I say is that somebody related to Miss Lepel found out the truth and shot him like a dog."
"Why did you not think of all this at the right time? Oh, father, it is too late now!"
"I'm not so sure of that. And, as for the gun—well, that often puzzled me; for I hadn't fired it myself that afternoon, Cynthy, and yet it had been fired—and that's what made part of the evidence against me. I'd been out that afternoon, and, coming home, who should I see in the distance but two or three gentlemen strolling along the road—Mr. Vane and the General and one or two strangers? Quick as thought, I laid my gun down and walked on as careless as you please. They met me—you know, that was a bit of the General's evidence, I looked back when I'd passed them, and I saw Mr. Sydney Vane separate himself from the other gentlemen and walk into the plantation. I did not like to go back just then; and so I waited. There was two or three ways of getting into the fir plantation, so I don't know who came into it across the fields, as anybody might have done either from the village or from the Hall. But presently I heard the report of a gun—two reports, as far as I remember; and then I saw Miss Lepel flying along the road—and I knew that she'd been in the plantation, any way. So, after watching a little while longer, I went back to the wood; and I found my gun pretty near where I had left it—only it had been moved and fired. So I took it up and walked away home."