"The doctor who examined the poor woman's body states that she was stabbed--so far as he can ascertain from the condition of the corpse--somewhere about twelve o'clock: say at midnight."
"Where?"
Morgan indicated a spot, stained with blood--it had soaked into the graveled path--some little distance away. "Yonder, Mr. Haskins. I judge from this that Miss Bellaria, as she is called hereabouts, came to open the gate to someone--the assassin, no doubt--and then she was stabbed to the heart before she could make an outcry. The doctor declares that death must have taken place almost instantaneously."
"Humph," said Gerald swiftly. "I see then that you exonerate Miss Durham, seeing that you say Bellaria was summoned to the gate by the assassin."
"Yes and no, Mr. Haskins," said the inspector stolidly, "according to what you say, this young lady was sane: that has yet to be proved. It is quite likely that for once she may have gone out."
"No, no; she had no wish to go out."
"You seem to know a great deal about the young lady's intentions," said Inspector Morgan, a trifle dryly. "Well then, she may have followed Miss Bellaria into the garden, and, after stabbing her, may have opened the gates and got away."
"Miss Bellaria never came into the garden at night," said Gerald quickly; "she told me herself that she was afraid of something."
"What was she afraid of?" asked Morgan sharply.
"I can't exactly tell you," replied the young man, who did not wish to say too much about the Tána Society, lest Mrs. Crosbie, who owned the coral pin, might be implicated, "but Bellaria hinted that she was afraid, and Miss Durham told me that her nurse would never venture out after dark. Why, then, should she have come to the gate?"