"Yes; but that key was not on the ring to which the others were attached. It hung on the wall."
"Along with the key of the smaller gate," put in Durban.
Then Inspector Jones spoke. "The key of the large gate," said he, "I found in the lock the next morning, where it had been left."
"The man with the black patch closed the large gate after him, as he ran out," said Beatrice.
"Ah! then, probably he opened the gate from the inside, and when he met you he was too startled to take it out of the lock.--And the smaller key--that belonging to the little gate, Mr. Inspector?"
"It is hanging on the wall of the counting-house now."
Beatrice started, and grasped the chair near which she stood to keep herself from falling. Vivian had picked up the key when she dropped it under the Witches' Oak. He must have replaced it in the counting-house himself, when he was inside. He had also left the handkerchief which she had in her pocket. Surely he was guilty, and yet--and yet--oh! it was too terrible. A word from the Coroner recalled her.
"You look pale, Miss Hedge?" he remarked suspiciously.
"And no wonder," said the girl faintly; "the whole affair is so very terrible."
"Well, well!" said Arne, relenting, and believing this excuse, which was feasible enough. "I shan't keep you much longer. Why did you not see Mr. Alpenny on that night?"