"But you wouldn't let that frighten you into silence, when your word would mean so much to him?" Burton forced himself to speak gently and coaxingly, for he saw that this frightened girl held the key to much of the mystery,--and he doubted her generosity!
"I wish I had--never seen him. I wish he had never come to--the garden. I never wanted him to come!"
"That wasn't the first time he had come, though, was it? You met him in the garden the evening before, you know," Burton said. He took a positive tone because he did not dare risk it as a question. But she met his assertion with a look so startled that it was all the confirmation he needed. Thank goodness! Henry had been here, then, when he came home in the small hours, and there was no further need to wonder about his whereabouts when the Sprigg fire started! Burton drew a breath of relief.
"I didn't think he would tell," wailed Miss Hadley.
"He didn't," said Burton quickly. "I happened to see him both times; that's how I knew."
"And I never thought he would be so wicked as to tie my father up in knots!"
"But he didn't, my dear Miss Hadley; you surely knew he didn't. He wouldn't have had time, even if there were nothing else. That's what we can prove, you and I. I want you to tell--"
"Oh, I can't! I can't! I'll say I don't know anything about it, if you try to make me tell. I think you are horrid!"
Burton beat his mind in despair. How was he to pin this irresponsible child down to the facts of the situation? Suddenly she looked up from her handkerchief.
"Mr. Selby says it was Henry, and now I can see what sort of a man he really is."