"Because I think you can best answer our questions."
Chaskin rose suddenly from his chair, and commanded his voice with a powerful effort of will, but the perspiration beaded his brow as he spoke.
"What am I to understand by this speech, Mr. Lovel?"
"That you are the assassin of Milly Lester!"
"I--I!" gasped the Vicar, sitting down again, less by will than because he could no longer stand upright. "You dare to accuse me of this terrible crime! Mr. Mexton, is your friend mad?"
"No, Mr. Chaskin," replied Paul in sad tones. "I believe the same as he does."
"That I killed Miss Lester--I, who read the service over her coffin!"
"Yes," exclaimed both men together.
Chaskin passed his hand across his brow and groaned. "This is some horrible dream," he said in an agitated voice, "You cannot be serious!"
"But we are serious," said Mexton, agitated also. "I would willingly believe you guiltless, sir, but what can I say--what can Lovel say--in the face of such evidence as this?"