"If I had been in town," he said, "this would not have happened, for I was always beside Whyte."
"You knew him very well, sir?" said the detective, in a sympathetic tone.
"We were like brothers," replied Moreland, mournfully.
"I came out from England in the same steamer with him, and used to visit him constantly here."
Mrs. Hableton nodded her head to imply that such was the case.
"In fact," said Mr. Moreland, after a moment's thought, "I believe I was with him on the night he was murdered."
Mrs. Hableton gave a slight scream, and threw her apron over her face, but the detective sat unmoved, though Moreland's last remark had startled him considerably.
"What's the matter?" said Moreland, turning to Mrs. Hableton.
"Don't be afraid; I didn't kill him—no—but I met him last Thursday week, and I left for the country on Friday morning at half-past six."
"And what time did you meet Whyte on Thursday night?" asked Gorby.