"And you did not detain her when you knew——"
"I knew nothing. Had I known that she was flying from justice I certainly should have urged her to surrender. But the news of these terrible doings in Marshely had not reached London; it was not in the papers until the following day. You grant that?"
"Yes, yes! But——"
"No 'buts' at all, Mr. Inspector," said Timson, who seemed firm enough in spite of his meek aspect. "My client confessed to me that her husband had been drowned, and that he had murdered her brother in a fit of passion because Captain Huxham intended to turn his sister out of doors and alter his will on account of her secret marriage."
"That motive may have had some weight," said Inglis quietly, "but I fancy the sight of the jewels made Vand murder his brother-in-law. Did Mrs. Vand call to tell you this?"
"No!" snapped Timson, whose meekness was giving way. "She called to make her will."
"Make her will—in whose favour?"
"I see no reason why I should not tell you," said the lawyer, "although I never reveal professional secrets. But I will tell, so that you may see how you have misjudged my client. She made a will in favour of Miss Isabella Faith——"
"Faith? Ah! she knew, then, that the girl was not her niece."
"Yes. But she did not tell me that, nor did I inquire. All she did was to make me, or, rather instruct me, to draw up a will leaving the Bleacres property and the five hundred a year she inherited from the late Captain Huxham, to Miss Faith, as some token of repentance for having misjudged her. And now," cried Timson, rising wrathfully, "my respected client is misjudged herself. I come to clear her character."