Audrey nodded her head absently as she was thinking of other things. "What will the verdict of the inquest be?" she demanded anxiously.
"In the absence of any proof likely to identify the assassin there can only be one verdict--wilful murder against some person or persons unknown."
"Oh! do you think, then, that there is more than one assassin?"
"No, dear. The inclusion of the plural is merely a matter of form. Undoubtedly poor Lady Branwin was murdered by one person only--the man who afterwards stole the jewels."
"You think it was a man, then?"
"In the absence of evidence I presume so. By the way, Audrey, how is it that your mother had a label attached to that red morocco bag? It is unusual."
"Oh, that was a peculiarity of mamma's nature. She attached labels to almost everything she took out of doors, as she always seemed to fancy that what she carried might be lost, and in this way--as she thought--provided against contingencies. Papa and I both used to laugh at her for the care with which she prepared those little pieces of parchment, and jokingly said that she must have been a baggage porter. Poor mamma!" Audrey sighed. "It is strange that her odd habit should be the means of tracing her murderer."
"It has not traced him, unfortunately," said Ralph, shaking his head; "but the finding of the label at the foot of the wall undoubtedly shows that he escaped in that way."
"It was strange that he should have left the key in the lock."
"Very strange," assented Shawe, emphatically; "and it shows how deliberate he was in his behaviour. He must have known that he had plenty of time to escape, and even then a smarter man would have taken the key with him. This is one of the mistakes the cleverest criminal makes."