“I want to congratulate you, Doctor,” said Miss Derwent, changing the conversation abruptly, “on your recent escape.”
“From the madman, you mean? It was a close shave, I assure you. For several minutes I was within nodding distance of St. Peter.”
“How dreadful! But why was the fellow not locked up long before this?”
“I did all I could to have him put under restraint. Several days ago I told a detective that I was sure not only that Argot was insane, but that he had committed the Rosemere murder. But he wouldn’t listen to me, and I came very near having to pay with my life for his pig-headedness. Every one has now come round to my way of thinking except this same detective, who still insists that the butler is innocent.”
Now that the blush had faded from her cheek, I realised that she was indeed looking wretchedly pale and thin, and as she leaned eagerly forward I was shocked to see how her lips twitched and her hands trembled.
“So it was you who first put the police on the Frenchman’s tracks?” she demanded.
“Yes. But you must remember that the success my first attempt at detective work has met with is largely due to the exceptional opportunities I have had for investigating this case. You may have noticed that no hat was found with the corpse and the police have therefore been searching everywhere for one that could reasonably be supposed to have belonged to the murdered man. Now, I may tell you, although I must ask you not to mention it, as the police do not yet wish that the fact become known, that it was I who found this missing hat in Argot’s possession. But I can’t boast much of my discovery, because the man brought it into my office himself. All I really did was to keep my eyes open, you see.” I tried to speak modestly, for I was conscious of a secret pride in my achievement.
“I really cannot see why you should have taken upon yourself to play the detective!”
I was so startled by May’s sudden attack on me that for a moment I remained speechless. Luckily, Mrs. Derwent saved me from the necessity of replying, by rising from her chair. Slipping her arm through Miss Cowper’s, she said—casting a significant glance at me: “We will leave these people to quarrel over the pros and cons of amateur work, and you and I will go and see what Mr. Norman is doing over there in that arbour all by himself.”