"No!" Shepworth turned irritably. "How could I be senseless when I heard and saw everything?—up to a point, that is."
"What did you see?" questioned Bruge eagerly.
"I could move neither hand nor foot, nor could I call out," went on Shepworth slowly, "and I lay on the floor, half propped up against that chair. Then I saw," he shuddered, "a large hairy hand push aside the tablecloth, and shortly a man crawled from underneath. It was Agstone, for I recognised him without difficulty. He growled in a pleased manner, and lifted me into this chair. Then he went out, and remained absent for some time. When he returned a tall woman was with him, wearing a mask and a green domino. Taking the bronze cup, from which the white smoke still poured, she waved it under my nose. My senses left me, and I knew no more until I woke to find you all in my room. And Agstone is dead," ended the barrister, trembling. "Agstone is dead."
"And Agstone," said Bruge significantly, "is the chief witness for the prosecution."
[CHAPTER VIII.]
A PRIVATE EXPLANATION.
Shepworth made no reply to the insinuation contained in the remark of the Inspector. His brain was still dazed with the fumes of the white smoke, and after telling his story he sat indifferently in his armchair. Prelice watched him closely, recognising the mental confusion, then laid his hand on the poor fellow's arm. "You had better come and lie down," he said gently, and glanced at Thornton.
"Certainly, certainly!" answered that gentleman briskly, and in reply to the unspoken query of Prelice; "a few hours' sleep will cure Mr. Shepworth completely."
"Can I stay with my friend?" demanded Prelice, turning to Bruge.
The Inspector nodded absently, as he was evidently following some train of thought. "Will it be necessary to make a further examination of this?" he inquired, looking at the dead body and at Thornton.