"Links--I--I--only wore them--once."
"I know you did, and on that night. You lost one pair and left the other in your bedroom, where they were found by the housemaid and returned to me. You would have been better advised had you destroyed them, Marshall."
"Why should I have destroyed them? I lost one pair, it is true. The catch between the ovals was worn, and the links broke."
"Not of their own accord," Mr. Cass said, quickly. "Your cuff caught on a nail when you put your arm through the window to kill Jenner."
Marshall uttered a loud cry and started to his feet his face crimson with rage, and shaking with what looked very much like terror. "I deny that," he cried. "I deny that I was at the Turnpike House--that I killed----"
"This link was found under the window," interrupted Mr. Cass. "The man who wore it was the man who killed Jenner; you are the man!"
"I kill Jenner? It is a lie!" Marshall continued to stare at the piece of gold which his brother-in-law continued to hold up as though he were fascinated. He drew his hand across his brow as he uttered his denial in a weak voice, and seemed to be trying to recall something. "Why should I have killed him?" he asked.
It was now Heron's turn. He drew from his pocket the bill of exchange. "Perhaps this will supply the motive," he said, coldly; "this forgery, discounted by Julian Roper."
With a face now positively purple and eyes almost staring out of his head, Marshall craned forward his head to look at the fatal evidence of his past. He recognised it only too well. For years he had been dreading this moment, and now that it had arrived the sight of the document proved too much for him. With a strangled cry he tugged at his collar, then fell like a log on the floor. The strong man, the guilty man, had fainted. And, neither Mr. Cass nor Heron were moved by the catastrophe. It was to them decisive evidence of his guilt; and when they recalled the lifelong imprisonment of Mrs. Jenner they could find no pity in their hearts for the detected rogue. Rather were they full of pity for those unhappy people with whom he was connected by marriage. Nothing in their eyes could expiate his guilt.
"It would be better if he died now," said Mr. Cass, as he watched Heron loosen his collar and dash cold water on his face.