"Miss Dare says so."
The prisoner struck his forehead with his hand.
"And it is so," he cried. "I remember now that some vague desire to know the time made me turn to look at the church clock. Go on. Tell me more that Miss Dare saw."
His manner was so changed—his eye burned so brightly—the detective gave himself a tap of decided self-gratulation.
"She saw you hurry over the bog, stop at the entrance of the wood, take a look at your watch, and plunge with renewed speed into the forest."
"It is so. It is so. And, to have seen that, she must have had the aid of a telescope."
"Then she describes your appearance. She says you had your pants turned up at the ankles, and carried your coat on your left arm."
"Left arm?"
"Yes."
"I think I had it on my right."