"You certainly did so very adroitly. But tell me the story. I am anxious to know what took place."
Francis was quite unnerved by the late interview, and, before continuing, poured himself out a glass of brandy. Then, pushing the bottle toward me, he began his strange narrative without further preamble.
"When I went to bed that night," he said slowly, "I could not sleep for ever so long. I kept wondering if your theory could possibly be true about the treachery of Felix. If it were, I considered how I should punish my brother. While thus thinking, I fell asleep, and didn't wake up till close on six o'clock in the morning. All my troubles came on me with full force, and you know how much worse things look at that hour than in broad daylight. There was no chance of further sleep, so I put on my clothes and went downstairs. The first thing I saw was my brother Felix lying dead on the floor."
"Had you any idea who killed him?"
"Not the slightest. I thought it was either Strent or the girl, so I went in search of them. They had fled, for I found my horse gone, so this flight confirmed me in my suspicion. At first I determined to wake you up and explain all, but, remembering my foolish talk of the previous night, I thought you might think me guilty of my brother's death."
"That was a foolish idea."
"Well, put yourself in my place, and you would have thought as I."
"Not a bit of it. I should have had more moral courage."
"I hadn't at that moment. I thought you would denounce me and I would be hanged, so took steps to secure my own safety. I went outside and found my brother's horse at the side of the house. Strent and his daughter had taken mine, and overlooked my brother's in the hurry of their guilty flight. I saw a means of escape and took it."
"But what about the substitution of yourself for Felix?"