Brendon stopped in his walk and looked sharply at the young man. "Why did you lock your door?" he asked surprised.
"Well, you see, after Mrs. Jersey came into the sitting-room I didn't like to think of her prowling about. One is so helpless when one is asleep," and Train shuddered.
"Did you expect her to murder you?" asked Brendon, derisively.
"I didn't expect anything," retorted Leonard, rather nettled, "but I didn't want her to come into my rooms, so I got out of bed and locked the sitting-room door."
"Not your bedroom door?"
"No, the sitting-room door; so both you and I were quite safe from her prying."
Brendon looked steadily at Train and gave a short laugh. "Yes. As you locked the sitting-room door she could as little enter as you or I could go out. Leonard--" he paused and pinched his lip--"I do not think it will be wise for you to tell the inspector this."
"Why not? You and I are innocent."
"That goes without the saying," answered George, sharply; "but the less we have to do with this unpleasant matter the better. I suppose we in common with every one else here, will be called to give evidence at the inquest. Once that is done and Mrs. Jersey is safely buried I wash my hands of the whole affair."
Train shuddered. "So do I," said he; "I am the last man in the world to wish to pursue the subject. But who can be guilty? It must be some one in the house!"