"My pistol!" Chaskin took the weapon from Paul's hand, and looked at it in a startled way. "Yes, it is mine; my name is on it. Mr. Lovel! Mr. Mexton! how did you come by it?"
"I received it from Gran Jimboy," said Paul.
"And Gran Jimboy picked it up on the very spot where Milly's body was lying," added Lovel, "shortly after the shot was fired. How did it come there?"
By this time Chaskin was the colour of paper; but there was a certain dignity in his answer. "I cannot tell you, gentlemen," he replied. "I did not lose it in the Winding Lane."
"But it is your pistol," said Lovel with a scowl.
"It is; but I--I lost it over a month ago!"
"I thought you would try and get out of it in that way," scoffed Lucas. "A weak defence, truly!"
"I need make no defence," said Chaskin, haughtily. "I am innocent."
"Then how can you explain your presence on the common before nine o'clock of that night?"
"How do you know I was on the common?"