"How did Roberts know?"
"He overheard Captain Burton at the open door of the library. He spoke loud enough for the whole house to hear, so Roberts says, but there happened to be nobody else about."
"Go on," cried Wilfred, flushed and impatient. "Let me hear what my brother said."
"He called Mr. Malet a swindler, and said he would make it hot for him."
Wilfred smiled derisively. "Really! And on such words, used in a moment of anger, you would accuse my brother of a brutal crime?"
"I don't accuse him, sir," retorted Woke, hotly; "but I should like an explanation of his words."
"I dare say he will furnish you with one." Wilfred forgot his sprained ankle now, and sat up filled with indignation. "And let me tell you, Mr. Woke," he went on, "the explanation will be such as to clear my brother wholly from all suspicion. He is the best fellow in the world, and I would as soon believe myself guilty of this thing as him. Suspect whom you please, but not my brother."
But the phlegmatic officer was quite unmoved by this outburst. "Natural enough," he said. "Oh, I don't blame you for standing up for the captain, sir; and I dare say, for that matter, he may be able to furnish an alibi, as he was at the Rectory waiting for her ladyship. All the same, I am bound to inquire further into this quarrel. I don't accuse him, mind"--Mr. Woke shook his forefinger--"but I can't help having my suspicions." He paused, and asked suddenly, "Who is Miss Scarse, sir?
"The daughter of Mr. Scarse, M.P., and the lady to whom my brother is engaged to be married. Mr. Malet disapproved of the marriage. That was the reason he and Captain Burton quarrelled."
"Scarse--Scarse," repeated the inspector, rising. "I've heard of him. He's the gentleman that's always writing and talking tall about the Boers, isn't he?"