"I see," said Tarling, "so it was you who packed the bag?"
"Half-packed it," corrected Mr. Milburgh. "You see, I'd made a mistake in the time the train left. It was only when I was packing the bag that I realised it was impossible for me to get down to the station in time. I had made arrangements with Miss Rider that if I did not turn up I would telephone to her a quarter of an hour before the train left. She was to await me in the lounge of a near-by hotel. I had hoped to get to her at least an hour before the train left, because I did not wish to attract attention to myself, or," he added, "to Miss Rider. When I looked at my watch, and realised that it was impossible to get down, I left the bag as it was, half-packed and went outside to the tube station and telephoned."
"How did you get in and out?" asked Tarling. "The porter on duty at the door said he saw nobody."
"I went out the back way," explained Mr. Milburgh. "It is really the simplest thing in the world to get into Miss Rider's basement flat by way of the mews behind. All the tenants have keys to the back door so that they can bring their cycles in and out, or get in their coals."
"I know that," said Tarling. "Go on."
"I am a little in advance of the actual story," said Milburgh. "The business of packing the bag takes my narrative along a little farther than I intended it to go. Having said good-bye to Miss Rider, I passed the rest of the evening perfecting my plans. It would serve no useful purpose," said Milburgh with an airy wave of his hand, "if I were to tell you the arguments I intended putting before him."
"If they did not include the betrayal of Miss Rider, I'm a Dutchman," said Tarling. "I pretty well know the arguments you intended using."
"Then, Mr. Tarling, allow me to congratulate you upon being a thought-reader," said Milburgh, "because I have not revealed my secret thoughts to any human being. However, that is beside the point. I intended to plead with Mr. Lyne. I intended to offer him the record of years of loyal service to his sainted father; and if the confession was not accepted, and if he still persisted in his revengeful plan, then, Mr. Tarling, I intended shooting myself before his eyes."
He said this with rare dramatic effect; but Tarling was unimpressed, and Whiteside looked up from his notes with a twinkle in his eye.
"You hobby seems to be preparing for suicide and changing your mind," he said.