"I saw someone get out of the window from the hall, on to the roof. I—I—They walked over to Mr. Ashton's window and seemed to be trying to open it."
"Who was it?" The crucial question of all that had been asked her came like the snapping of a lash, and, as she comprehended it, her face became flushed, then ghastly pale.
"I—I—must I answer that question?"
"You must."
"But—I—I cannot!" she burst into sobs, and buried her face in her hands. I feared that she was going to faint.
The Magistrate looked at her sternly.
"Miss Temple," he said, "evidence has been given here this morning which points strongly toward a prisoner in this court as the person guilty of Mr. Ashton's death. Your answer to my question may confirm or disprove his guilt. I direct you to answer my question at once. Whom did you see upon the porch roof?"
Miss Temple looked despairingly about her, rose with a ghastly look from her chair, and, facing the magistrate said: "It—it—oh, my God!—it was my father!" Then she collapsed limply against the rail.
Major Temple rose from his seat and stood white and trembling. "Muriel!" he cried, in a voice filled with incredulous amazement and horror, which rang throughout the whole room.
I sprang forward with outstretched arms, but Inspector Burns was before me. He placed Miss Temple tenderly in her chair: she was unconscious.