I did not quite see what I had done, but it soon became apparent.
"I knew it!" gasped out the sick man again; "I knew it from the first moment that he tried to throw suspicion on Carr."
"Sir George," said Marston, gravely, "Charles made a mistake just now. Do not you, on your side, make another. Come, Charles," turning to the latter, who was now sitting erect, with flashing eyes, "tell us about it. What were you doing when Middleton saw you?"
"I was coming up-stairs," said Charles, haughtily.
"From the library?" asked Sir George.
Charles bit his lip and remained silent.
I would not have spoken to him for a good deal at that moment. He looked positively dangerous.
"From the library, of course," he said at last, controlling himself, and speaking with something of his old careless manner, "laden with the spoils of my midnight depredations. Parental fondness will supply all minor details, no doubt; so, as the subject is a delicate one for me, I will withdraw, that it may be discussed more fully in my absence."
"Stop, Charles," said Marston; "the case is too serious for banter of this kind. My dear boy," he added, kindly, "I am glad to see you angry, but nevertheless, you must condescend to explain. The longer you allow suspicion to rest on yourself the longer it will be before it falls on the right person. Come, what were you doing in the passage at that time of night?"
Charles was touched, I could see. A very little kindness was too much for him.