Derrington dashed down his pen furiously and rose. "You go too far, sir; you go too far!" he roared.
"Not any further than you intended to go. If you threaten me I have a right to protect myself."
"In what way?"
"By telling you that if I am in a perilous position, you are also."
"Do you mean to say that I murdered the woman?"
"By no means," said Brendon, quickly. "I should not think of doing such a thing. But I do say you were in that house after eleven."
"I was not," panted the old nobleman, savagely, and glared at his grandson with bloodshot eyes.
"You were," insisted Brendon; "there is no need to tell you how I got out of my bedroom unbeknown to Train, but I did. I came downstairs to see Mrs. Jersey at half-past eleven or thereabouts. I crept down the stairs and saw you standing in the light of the hall lamp. You had on a fur coat, and I recognized you by your unusual height. Also by the color of your coat. Some months before you wore that coat--it is a claret-colored one trimmed with sable--at a race-meeting. You were pointed out to me, and it was the first time I had set eyes on you. It was you in the hall."
"Did you see my face?" asked Derrington.
"No. But the coat and the height, and my knowledge that you were connected with Mrs. Jersey----"