“Do you want to put any more questions to Miss Claris?” asked Clifford, imperturbably.
“Well, the young lady seemed so unwilling—But, of course, if you think she wouldn’t mind—after all, it’s only a rehearsal like, and I dare say she knows that.”
Now these words, taken with the tone in which they were spoken, were strong tests of the lover’s trust. But Clifford did not flinch. He told Hemming to call the nurse, who was waiting outside the door, and at once sent a message to Nell to ask her to come and see him.
“And don’t tell her,” he went on, with a defiant glance at the detective, “who it is that wishes to see her.”
When Nell came in, therefore, she was taken by surprise. It worried Clifford to note that she turned very white and began to tremble violently when she found who it was that wanted to speak to her. Hemming came to the point at once.
“Do you remember, Miss,” said he, in a very deferential tone, “Colonel Bostal’s taking down an old pistol from a nail in the wall of his house, about a week ago, and showing it to you and some other ladies?”
Yes, Nell remembered. She threw a frightened glance at Clifford as she made this admission.
“Can you tell me who the ladies were?”
“Mrs. Lansdowne and her daughter and Miss Theodora and—and—I!”
“The colonel fired it off, did he not?”