“It is wonderful how you have divined my mind and the line of thought I followed,” said the young man. His even tones were an indication that he was regaining his composure.
“Next, there was your attempt to kill Brett instead of helping me to capture him. That told against you. True, it indicated that you had what you regarded as a just cause of deadly hatred. But if you were under the belief that Brett had killed Lumsden it would have suited you better to capture him than to shoot him. Your shot at Brett showed me that you knew it was not Brett who had killed Lumsden, and also that you feared if Brett were arrested he would charge you with shooting Lumsden.”
“Go on,” said the young man breathlessly.
“There is little more to tell,” said Crewe. “I had to ask Gillett yesterday not to refer to the doubts I had expressed to him regarding Brett’s guilt. I was afraid he might do so in your presence and that would have put you on your guard. The final proof came when Gillett discovered the bullet in the tree where Lumsden fell. At the moment Gillett found the bullet I picked up these in the grass.”
Crewe produced from his waistcoat pocket a pair of eye-glasses.
“So that is where I lost them!” exclaimed Marsland. “It never occurred to me before. I have no recollection of their dropping off—I suppose I was too excited to notice they had gone.”
“Your meeting with him was accidental?” said Crewe.
“Quite. I had been out riding on the downs and when I struck the road I wasn’t sure which way I had to go to get home. I saw a man coming along the road and I rode up to him. It was Lumsden. I tell you, Crewe, he was terrified at the sight of me—no doubt he thought that I had been killed in France. As I was dismounting and tying up my horse he pleaded for his life. He grovelled at my feet in the dirt. But I didn’t waste much time or pity. I told him that he had earned death a hundredfold, and that the only thing I was sorry for was that I could kill him only once. He sprang up the bank in the hope of getting away, but I brought him down with a single shot. I saw that he was done for and I left him gasping in the agony of death. I had no pity—I had seen so many men die, and I had seen my company of good men go to their deaths because of his treachery.
“I rode back over the downs, and caring little which way I went I lost my way and was overtaken by the storm. Eventually I saw the farm and went there for shelter. And upstairs I found the dead body of this man Lumsden. It was the strangest experience of my life. I did not know what to think—I could not make out how the body had got there. And when Miss Maynard asked me to say nothing to the police about her having been there I thought it was the least I could do for her. I knew that whatever errand had brought her there she had nothing to do with his death.”
There was a long pause during which the two men looked at one another.