“Happen I did, what good’d come of telling them?”
“To save Sisily.”
“They’d not help to save her.”
“Do you think she shot her father?”
Thalassa gave him another dark look, but remained silent.
“You know she didn’t, you hound!” cried Charles, anger flaring up in him again. “It was you—it must have been you. Listen to me! I know almost enough to hang you. I was in the house while you were away, and found your master lying dead in his study, and the key of the door in the passage outside. Who could have dropped it there except you?”
“‘Tweren’t me. ‘Twas done afore I got back to the house,” answered Thalassa.
“What time was it when you left the house with Sisily?”
“Agone half-past eight: perhaps ten minutes after. She came running downstairs, her eyes staring and blazing. ‘Thalassa, dear Thalassa, for pity’s sake let me out,’ she said half-sobbing. ‘Oh, what did I come for? He’s wicked—wicked.’ Twasn’t for me to say anything between father and daughter, so I just opened the door without a word, and went out with her.”
“What time did Sisily catch the wagonette?”