"What makes you think I let him go?" retorted Colwyn coldly. "You need not be afraid that your wife's murderer will escape justice. Nepcote is lying ill of pneumonia in a private hospital in London. He can only escape by death. But the manner in which you have received this information suggests to my mind that you have had your own suspicions of Nepcote all along, but have kept them to yourself."
"I cannot conceive that to be any business of yours," replied the young man, with a touch of hauteur.
"It seems to me that it is, in the circumstances. You came to me seeking my assistance because you believed in the innocence of Hazel Rath, but—as I am now convinced—you suppressed information which pointed to Captain Nepcote."
"I told you all that I thought necessary."
"You told me that your wife had been shot with Nepcote's revolver. Is that what you mean?"
"Yes. That was sufficient to put you on the track without taking you into my confidence about ... something which affected my honour and the honour of my family." Phil turned very pale as he uttered the last words.
"Perhaps Phil should have told you, but you must make allow—" commenced Musard. But Colwyn silenced him with an imperative glance.
"At the time you came to see me, you believed that Captain Nepcote had murdered your wife?" he said, facing Phil.
"I did."
"Do you mind telling me now on what ground you based that belief?"