"He was quite right," said Clarice, reproachfully, "seeing how ill Uncle Henry was, and you did upset him, you know."
"Barras upset him," expostulated the vicar. "He was angry with Barras, not with me, and declared that I should have spoken before. He also said that Jerce had no right to prevent my seeing him, and that there was no need for me to go to the front door. When I wished to see him, he said, I could enter by the French window, which was generally open."
"Yes, it was," said Miss Baird, thinking of the difference of opinion which existed between the two doctors; "but why did you choose so late an hour to enter by that way?"
Clarke hesitated and looked down. "I was much disturbed on the night of the crime. I had received bad news. Unable to sleep, I walked in my garden."
"On that bitterly cold night?"
"Oh, the thaw had come by that time, you know. I left my garden and walked about the town. I had no idea of going to see Horran, for at that time I knew that he would be asleep. However, I walked back to the vicarage up the lane, and saw a light in the bedroom and the window open."
"You are certain that it was open?" asked Clarice.
"I entered by it, as I thought I would see if Horran was asleep or awake, and then--"
"Well. Was he asleep or awake?"
"He was dead," said the vicar, with great emotion. "He was lying in bed with the clothes in disorder, and his breast streaming with blood."