"I do not understand you," cried the prisoner, in a voice that, despite his marked self-control, showed the presence of genuine emotion.
Mr. Gryce at once went into particulars. He was anxious to have Craik Mansell's mind disabused of the notion that Imogene had committed this crime, since upon that notion he believed his unfortunate reticence to rest. He therefore gave him a full relation of the scene in the hut, together with all its consequences.
Mr. Mansell listened like a man in a dream. Some fact in the past evidently made this story incredible to him.
Seeing it, Mr. Gryce did not wait to hear his comments, but upon finishing his account, exclaimed, with a confident air:
"Such testimony is conclusive. It is impossible to consider Miss Dare guilty, after an insight of this kind into the real state of her mind. Even she has seen the uselessness of persisting in her self-accusation, and, as I have already told you, went to Mr. Orcutt's house in order to explain to him her past conduct, and ask his advice for the future. She learned something else before her interview with Mr. Orcutt ended," continued the detective, impressively. "She learned that she had not only been mistaken in supposing you had admitted your guilt, but that you could not have been guilty, because you had always believed her to be so. It has been a mutual case of suspicion, you see, and argues innocence on the part of you both. Or so it seems to the prosecution. How does it seem to you?"
"Would it help my cause to say?"
"It would help your cause to tell what sent you so abruptly from Mrs. Clemmens' house the morning she was murdered."
"I do not see how," returned the prisoner.
The glance of Mr. Gryce settled confidentially on his right hand where it lay outspread upon his ample knee.
"Mr. Mansell," he inquired, "have you no curiosity to know any details of the accident by which you have unexpectedly been deprived of a counsel?"