“It was at night the friend met the blackmailer,” she said. “There was an altercation, and then a struggle. Still, the blackmailer was not seriously hurt, and the other man saw him walk away. It was not until next day they found he had fallen into a river from the bridge.”
She stopped a moment, and Violet turned to her, very white in face, with a great horror in her eyes.
“You venture to tell me this?” she said.
“Yes,” said Nettie, glancing at Tony. “It hurts me, but it’s necessary. If you do not believe me ask the man who sent his friend to meet the man he dared not face.”
There was a sound that suggested a gasp, and a dress rustled softly as Violet, moving a little, closed one hand, while Tony’s face showed gray and drawn as he leaned forward in his chair. It was, however, the vicar who broke the tense silence.
“Since you have told us so much, Miss Harding, I must ask you to go on,” he said.
“Then,” said Nettie, “the friend gave up everything, and took the blame that his comrade might marry the woman he loved, He went to America—and when he comes back there from Cuba we will find room for him.”
“I think,” said the vicar very slowly, “in order to make quite sure one of us should ask you for his name.”
Nettie glanced at Violet, who made a little sign.
“It was Bernard Appleby,” she said.