“This gentleman is connected with my family and I’m sure he will be able to give a perfectly satisfactory account of himself,” said his frightened kinsman nervously.
“Hope so, I’m sure,” said one of the policemen drily.
“Could you not let him go?” suggested the new earl uneasily.
“No, sir; I’m afraid we couldn’t see our way to it. Gentlemen found running away in a house where a murder has been committed isn’t let off quite so easy.”
“Murder! Who said there was a murder?”
The man pointed to the constable who had brought the doctor to Rees.
“This man and the young lady there found the body.”
“The young lady,” cried Goodhare mockingly. “The young lady’s word isn’t worth much. If you take her to the station and have her searched, you will find on her a quantity of jewels of great value, stolen from the Regalia at the Tower.”
Evidently some rumor of the theft, quiet as the matter had been kept, had reached the ears of the force. For they looked at each other, and one of them stepped quickly forward, with his hand raised, towards Deborah. To her great surprise, the decorous Charles Cenarth came to the rescue with a deliberate and roundly uttered falsehood.
“I don’t know what the prisoner hopes to gain by this ridiculous charge against a young lady,” he said, gravely. “But as I happen to be Keeper of the Regalia, no one can prove better than I that she cannot be in possession of any of the crown jewels, as none of the crown jewels have ever been stolen.”