Monsieur Matthieu's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Jim. "The case becomes more interesting. H-m. You will now tell me, please, what happened when you went out of the studio into the hallway."
Horton nodded.
"We thought of going away and returning when Madame Horton, my sister-in-law, should return."
"The wife of the murdered man?" broke in the Commissaire.
"Yes, Monsieur," said Jim. "As we were about to go down to the court below we heard the footsteps of some one coming up. But it was not Madame Horton. We knew that by the sounds. It was a man's step—so we withdrew into the little hall room and watched."
"The facts are curious, Monsieur Horton," put in the Commissaire with sudden interest. "Why did you wish to conceal yourself from the other visitors of Madame Horton?"
The question was pertinent and there could be no evading a reply. So Jim told briefly of Quinlevin, Moira and Harry and his unfriendly relationship with his brother. As he did so he heard the gasps and whisperings among the listeners which gave him an unpleasant realization of their conception of the affair. And the testimony of Piquette, who grew angry at the sounds from the auditors, did nothing to improve his situation.
"I see, Monsieur," said M. Matthieu sagely. "It is wise that you see fit to tell us the truth now since it must all come out later. There was bad blood between you and your brother and between you and Monsieur Quinlevin—so that you feared a plot in the Petit Bleu which meant to do you violence?"
"Not when I received the message, Monsieur. I came here with Madame Morin in good faith to try and help Madame Horton—to take her away from a situation in which she was most unhappy."
"And your relations with your sister-in-law?" asked the Commissaire.