The hermit looked deeply gratified.
“Mrs. Trafton,” he said, “you are right. I had no cause to harm your husband, nor would I have killed him for Robert’s sake, whatever wrong he might have done me. But, in truth, I know of no reason why I should seek to injure him.”
“If you are an innocent man,” persisted Mrs. Scott, “tell us who you are and what brought you here.”
“Yes, tell us who you are!” echoed two others who had always felt curious about the hermit.
“I do not choose to declare myself now,” said the hermit gravely. “The time may come when I shall do so, but not now.”
“That’s because you’re a thief or murderer!” exclaimed Mrs. Scott, exasperated.
“Wife, you’re goin’ too far!” said her husband.
“Mind your own business, Tom Scott!” retorted his wife in a tone with which he was only too familiar. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself tryin’ to screen the murderer of your next-door neighbor.”
“I am doing nothing of the kind. There’s no proof that the hermit of the cliff murdered John Trafton.”
“You must be a fool if you can’t see it,” said Mrs. Scott.