"Because you must be aware who fired the shot."
"But no, Mr. Mexton; I tell you no! I hear the shot; I run forward; I see no one; not Mr. Lovel, not the good Herne. No one person do I see. I put the feather on the body, and run away, in case they say I kill the lady. I get into my carriage at the inn, and go back to Marborough; then to London in the railway."
"Did you see Mr. Herne at Barnstead at all?"
"No. I saw him at Marborough at the railway; then never again."
"Do you think he killed the girl?"
"I know not. He says not."
"He'd say anything to save his own neck," rejoined Paul, scornfully. "Was he in disguise when he went to Barnstead?"
"Not that I know; but he had a long coat for the rain, and there was no rain. Also a white scarf on his neck; not like the dress of a gentleman."
"I see. A disguise. He did not want to be known in Barnstead."
Catinka made a gesture of indifference. "I know nothing of that," she said. "I have told you all."