"You are. Carrington is aware that Mrs. Beatson told you about the will; he was with me when we found the opal. He says that you are guilty, and when in London sent that anonymous letter--but I forgot you don't know about the letter."
"Yes, I do," snarled Mallien, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "Carrington was very explicit at the interview." He paused for a moment, then continued: "I may as well tell you everything, since you know so much. But I warn you, Rupert, that nothing you can say or do to crush Carrington and help me will prevent my claiming the property."
Hendle waved his hand lightly. "That's all right. I am aware that you are a thoroughly ungrateful man. Let that pass."
"I am not ungrateful," cried Mallien hotly. "What have I to be grateful for?"
"In the first place for many sums of money I have given you; in the second for my offer to save your liberty and perhaps your life. Were it only for your own sake, Mallien," added Rupert with scorn, "I should leave you to Carrington's tender mercies. As it is, I must consider Dorinda. Now, no more talk, if you please. Let me know exactly what took place between you and that blackmailing thief."
Mallien did not argue further. Not that he felt any shame, but he saw that Rupert was too strong for him, and felt that his cousin had right on his side. Mallien would never have admitted the right, as his nature was too ungracious to ascribe honor to anyone but himself. In a sulky manner, and as if Rupert was trying to do him harm instead of good, he related what had passed between himself and the barrister at The Hendle Arms. The Squire thus learned for the first time that Mallien had been in the Vicarage grounds on the night of the murder, and had lost the opal ornament during the struggle with the unknown man in the avenue. "And I believed that the fellow was you," protested Mallien earnestly. "You had every right to murder Leigh."
"Every right," echoed Rupert angrily.
"I mean every reason," said Mallien, correcting himself hurriedly, "and, after the man ran away, I went to look in through the Vicarage windows. There was a light in the study, and, as you know, the window had neither curtains nor blinds. I saw Leigh lying dead on the floor, and went home without saying a word, lest I should be accused."
"You acted the part of a brave man, I must say," said Rupert contemptuously, "but it appears that you didn't murder Leigh."
"No, I certainly did not. Why, I only left this cottage as the church clock chimed eleven, and, as Leigh was murdered at that hour, he must have been dead before I reached the Vicarage. I expect the man was hunting for the will, and only managed to escape with it when I ran up against him in the avenue."