"He could, not help himself," said Lady Wyke, tartly.
"So he said. He heard my ring at the door, and came down to the study, leaving Lemby in the drawing-room. Wyke told me that he hated you, and did not intend that you should have his fortune. He intended, so he said, to make a new will, leaving the five thousand a year to me, on condition that I should marry Claudia. I agreed, and he took me out of the study into the dining-room adjoining to show me some notes he had made for a new will."
"Rather strange that he should keep those notes in the dining-room," sneered Lady Wyke, who was listening intently.
"It was strange. But then Wyke was not quite himself that night. Your unexpected reappearance gave him a shock, because he hated you. Anyhow he took me into the dining-room and showed me some papers. Afterwards he went back to the study for other papers, and was away for some time. I heard a cry and a fall, and after waiting for a moment or so I went back to the study. There I saw Wyke lying dead on the hearthrug. While I was bending over him, to see if he was really dead, Mrs. Vence came in, dropped the tray, and fainted. Then came the postman's knock. I lost my head, for in a flash I saw in what a dangerous position I stood if I were discovered with the dead man."
"It seems to me," said Lady Wyke, deliberately, "that you kept your head very cleverly, seeing how you saved yourself."
"I did that on the spur of the moment. I was very much afraid, and ran into the hall, opened the front door, and dashed down the path. All I wanted to do was to escape being recognised by Hall. Then I saw his bicycle leaning against the fence, and immediately the idea came to me of escaping. I used it as you know--and as everyone else knows. Where I rode in the fog and the gloom, I scarcely knew; all I wanted to do was to escape. Then I found myself on the Bethley Road, and saw the carrier's cart joggling along with the man half asleep while driving. I jumped off the bicycle and hoisted it on to the back of the cart, so that no one should know where I had dropped off the machine. Sorley, the carrier, found it, as you know, when he reached home at Waking. I then walked back to the Bethley railway station and took the train to town. That is the whole story, so you see that I am innocent."
"You make out a very good case for yourself," she said, coolly; "but who will believe such a story? It is known that the Lemby girl wished to marry you, and that you hated Hector for taking her from you."
"That is quite true. But I did not hate him after our interview in the study and the dining-room. Of course, I pitied him."
"Yes, of course you did," scoffed the woman, "Anyhow, you are known to have hated him as your rival, and the original letter I hold will prove that you came down to murder him."
"I don't see that?"