"W-what d' you mean?"
"You must be clear of England by to-morrow night at latest."
Barrymaine stared up at Barnabas wide-eyed and passed his tongue to and fro across his lips before he spoke again:
"Beverley, w-what d' you—mean?"
"I know why you keep your right hand hidden!" said Barnabas.
Barrymaine shivered suddenly, but his fixed stare never wavered, only, as he crouched there, striving to speak yet finding no voice, upon his furrowed brow and pallid cheek ran glittering lines of sweat. At last he contrived to speak again, but in a whisper now:
"W-what do you mean?"
"I mean that tonight I found this scrap of cloth, and I recognized it as part of the cuff of your sleeve, and I found it clenched in Jasper Gaunt's dead hand."
With a hoarse, gasping cry Barrymaine cast himself face down upon the floor again and writhed there like one in agony.
"I d-didn't mean to—oh, God! I never m-meant it!" he groaned and, starting to his knees, he caught at Barnabas with wild, imploring hands: "Oh, Beverley, I s-swear to you I n-never meant to do it. I went there tonight to l-learn the truth, and he th-threatened me—threatened me, I tell you, s-so we fought and he was s-strong and swung me against the w-wall. And then, Beverley—as we s-struggled—somehow I g-got hold of—of the dagger and struck at him—b-blindly. And—oh, my God, Beverley—I shall never forget how he—ch-choked! I can hear it now! But I didn't mean to—do it. Oh, I s-swear I never meant it, Beverley—s-so help me, God!"