"And I say it again. I got drunk on that night because Jerce worried me so. I was quite feverish."
"Were you really drunk?" asked Clarice, eagerly.
"Yes, I was. Mother Dumps had been feeding me up with bad champagne in honour of Zara's coming home. I came back, and you locked me in my room, Clarry. I fell asleep, and didn't wake up until nearly two o'clock in the morning."
"Are you sure of the time?" asked his sister, quickly.
"Yes, I am. I lighted the candle and looked at my watch. Then I drank some water, and sat on the bed to think of what I should do. I felt jolly miserable, I can tell you," said Ferdy, in an aggrieved tone, "what with all my debts, and being in love with Prudence, and with Zara worrying me, and with Jerce making things hot. Then I thought that it would be best to go down and see Uncle Henry, and tell him all. Remembering the conversation of Jerce and Barras, I fancied that the accounts were wrong, and that if Jerce made it hot for me over the bill, that Uncle Henry could make it hot for Jerce. I swear," cried Ferdy again, "that when I went down the stairs I never intended to lay a hand on the man who had been like a father to me. I intended to tell him all, and throw myself on his mercy."
"How did you get out, when I had locked you in?"
Ferdy cast a contemptuous look on her, "Why, I had another key, of course. You locked me in several times, and thought that I was safe, but I could get out whenever I liked. I unlocked the door, and went down to see Uncle Henry in my cloth slippers and dressing-gown."
"If you intended no harm," asked Anthony, "why did you take the stamp with you--the Purple Fern stamp?"
"I intended to give it to Uncle Henry, and tell him how Jerce had got it from Frank Clarke, and the use he intended to make of it. Well, then, I went down carefully, and opened the bedroom door. I thought that Uncle Henry might be awake. But he wasn't; he was dead."
There was a pause. "Are you sure?" asked Clarice, in a husky voice.