"Yes, that was the man who assisted to remove the body, and that is the description of the corpse I found in the hut."
"My husband's body was found in the vault, you liar!" cried the widow.
"Was it, Clara Maria? Well, all I can say is I don't know how it got there. I left it in the hut myself."
"Why did you not give information to the police?"
"What! And get locked up on suspicion of murder? No, thank you, Mr. Thorold. I ran away from that corpse as I would have done from the devil."
"Whose child you are," said his sister bitterly.
"Don't miscall your own father, Clara Maria. Well, sir, I went on to Bournemouth, and wrote two letters, one to Miss Marlow, and one to my sister, although I did not know she was my sister then. Had I known I had a relative in Heathton," said Cicero with pathos, "I should have asked for a bed."
"And your sister, Billy Spinks, would have set the dogs on you."
"I am sure you would, Clara Maria. You were always one for sentimental scenes."
"Tell me, Gramp, is this all you know of these crimes?" put in Alan.