"It has been impenetrable for that time because no one has tried to solve it. This is not your real reason for wishing to end the case. What is your reason? Speak! I insist upon knowing the truth."
The other did not reply, but thrust his hands deeper into his pockets, and maintained a masterly silence. Irritated by this negative attitude, Claude placed his hands on the little man's shoulders and looked at him indignantly.
"I know what your reason is, Tait," he said rapidly; "it is not that you fear we may learn too little, but that you expect we will learn too much."
"Yes," replied Tait simply, "that is the reason. Is it not an all-sufficient one for you to pause?"
"No!" shouted Claude savagely; "it is all-sufficient for me to go on. You think that I may discover that Hilliston is the criminal, or learn that my mother is accountable for the crime. I tell you no such thing will happen. Hilliston was not near The Laurels on the fatal morning. My mother—I have told you how she exonerated herself, and the exoneration was substantiated by Denis Bantry. Both are innocent."
"It may be so. But who is guilty?"
"Jeringham. I believe that he discovered that my father had returned, and perhaps knowing of this intrigue between him and Mona Bantry, remained at The Laurels, unknown to my mother, in order to assist her as a friend."
"How did Jeringham obtain possession of the dagger?"
"I cannot say. We must find out. But he did obtain possession of the dagger, and during a quarrel with my father killed him with it. He fled to avoid the consequences. Oh, yes! I swear that Jeringham is guilty. But I will hunt him down, if I have to do it alone."
"You will not do it alone," said Tait quietly. "I am with you still."