"Your servants?" I suggested.
"They are Ransay girls, and one foreign accent is the same as another to them," she laughed.
"Then it must have been finding the parachute. I always thought that gave me away."
"But it wasn't found till Monday morning, after we had been for that walk."
"It might have been found by these people sooner."
"It might," she admitted without much conviction. "But still—who did you see or speak to apart from us and Dr. Rendall and Mr. O'Brien?"
"The Scollays," I said, "and several farmers I happened to meet; but always with a most suspicious accent. Oh, and there was one incident I forgot to mention. On the Sunday afternoon I was doing a little fancy shooting with my revolver down on the beach when Jock turned up. You know Jock the idiot?"
"Well," she said, but her attention had evidently been caught by my first words. "You were doing fancy shooting," she repeated. "Are you a very good shot?"
"Quite useful," I admitted with becoming modesty. "That afternoon I was rather above myself."
"Then," she cried, "you were seen, and that's why the man stopped firing at you as soon as you aimed at him! He knew he would be hit if he went on!"