"He didn't," cried Prelice sharply; "I'll stake my existence that Mr. Shepworth is perfectly innocent."
"My lord, we know that the prosecution hoped to convict Miss Chent on Agstone's evidence. It was necessary that the defence should keep him out of the way. And here is the man, very forcibly removed, and in the rooms of the young gentleman who is not only helping to defend Miss Chent, but who is her affianced husband. It looks strange."
Prelice pointed to Shepworth, who now showed signs of reviving. "I say to you, as I said to those people who burst into the flat when the alarm was given, that Shepworth is incapable of lifting a hand."
"Ah! but we don't know how long he has been incapable," said Bruge cunningly. "When was Agstone murdered, doctor?"
Thornton, who was twisting a cigarette, answered promptly enough. "I should say, judging from the condition of the temperature of the body, some time between ten and eleven o'clock."
"And can you tell," asked the Inspector, turning to the other doctor, "how long Mr. Shepworth has been insensible?"
"No!" said the young physician promptly; "but he'll tell us himself soon. He is coming round."
Even as he spoke Shepworth opened his eyes, and stared vaguely at those in the room. His gaze wandered in a bewildered manner from the Inspector to Prelice, and from Prelice to the two doctors. Finally, he looked meditatively at the dead body, which was stretched right across the blue cloth of the dining-table, with its glassy eyes staring at the ceiling. A shudder shook the barrister's frame, and as though moved by wires, he sprang stiffly to his feet.
"Prelice! Prelice!" he cried, and his voice grew stronger as his strength came back, as did his colour and senses. "Look! Look! Isn't it the same as in the Grange library! Agstone is dead, and I have been in a trance."
"You know then?" asked Bruge swiftly, "that the dead man is Agstone?"