"Missy," he said gravely, "I have been, and I am, a good friend to you."
"Yes--yes, I know you are," she said, with a sigh.
"The reason of my fidelity you shall know some day," he went on, "and a good reason it is. But you must ask me no more questions until I voluntarily tell you all that it is needful you should know. With regard to Mr. Paslow, you can set your mind at rest. He is quite innocent. The handkerchief you found was left behind by him on the day he had that quarrel with Mr. Alpenny."
"Are you sure?"
"I am absolutely certain. I saw it on master's desk when I went in to get that letter which I was to take to town. As to the key, I got it from Mr. Paslow himself."
"When did you see him?"
"Later on in the day--on that day when we found out the murder," explained Durban fluently. "I went outside, and found that Mr. Paslow was coming in, to see if you had got home safely. He told me that he possessed the key of the small gate, which you had dropped, and gave it to me. I replaced it on the nail in the counting-house, where the Inspector found it. Mr. Paslow went to London whenever he heard of the crime, and at my request."
"But why, Durban?" asked Beatrice, relieved to find that Vivian had not been so callous or neglectful as she had thought.
"I wanted him to see Mr. Alpenny's lawyer, and look after the will," said Durban steadily. "He wanted to see you; I would not allow that, as you were quite worried enough."
"But the sight of Vivian would have done me good," protested the poor girl faintly, for she was quite worn out.