"Hilliston! Hilliston!" said Linton thoughtfully. "Yes, I believe that was the man. A tall old gentleman, very fresh-colored. He was greatly interested in my literary work."
"Who could help being interested in so clever a book?" said Claude, in a meaning tone. "But Mr. Hilliston is a lawyer, and I suppose you do not like members of that profession."
"Now, why should you say that?" demanded Linton, rather taken aback by this perspicacity.
"Well, for one thing you admit a dislike for the law, and for another you make Michael Dene, the solicitor, commit the crime in 'A Whim of Fate.'"
"Oh, I only did that as he was the least likely person to be suspected," said the author easily. "Jenny—that is, Miss Paynton—wanted me to make Markham commit the crime."
"Markham is Jeringham," murmured Tait, under his breath. "Who committed the crime in the actual case?" he added aloud.
"No one knows," answered Linton, shrugging his shoulders. "The case as related to me was a mystery. I solved it after my own fashion."
"In the third volume you trace the assassin by means of a breastpin belonging to Michael Dene," said Claude, again in favor. "Is that fact or fiction?"
"Fiction! Miss Paynton invented the idea. She said that as the dagger inculpated the woman the breastpin found on the banks of the river would lead to the detection of the man. And, as I worked it out, the idea was a good one."
"Ah!" murmured Tait to himself, "I wonder if Mr. Hilliston had anything to do with a breastpin."