"Ah, then it was you I heard, when I knocked?" interposed Cleek.
Sir Edgar nodded.
"Yes, I didn't stop to notice, just rushed into that room, and saw the old woman dead and not a soul to be seen. Then I heard your knocking again, and I think I lost my head—I thought it might be the police. I know I was mad, but I just made a dash for the window and was out and through it like a shot!"
"H'mn—then there was someone else in the house, too, for it was a woman who crossed that lawn, one who wore a gold scarf," said Cleek, his brows knitted. "Well, go on, what next?"
"You can imagine my feelings when you said you had been driven out by Miss Cheyne herself when I met you in the lane. I thought that in my fright I had imagined the murder and that she must just have fainted and come to afterward. I know it was silly, but I was afraid to speak."
"That's all right," said Cleek, quietly. "But now what about the second murder? How did you come to go to Cheyne Court again? That wants explaining away, too."
"And it can easily be explained," retorted Sir Edgar, rapidly. "I was trying to find Lady Margaret, and I caught a glimpse, or thought I did, of a woman's figure in the grounds and followed it right into the house. There again I found the body of Miss Cheyne, as naturally I took it to be, and felt I must have gone out of my senses. There was something queer and supernatural in finding her again in the same spot. Like a donkey I took to my heels, and ran straight into Dr. Verrall half-way down the lane."
Cleek twitched up an enquiring eyebrow.
"Met Dr. Verrall in the lane, did you?"
"Yes. He told me he had come from Miss Wynne's house, he had been to borrow some drug from the old doctor's surgery or something. Anyway, I tell you I was tempted to blurt out the truth, but again I was afraid, for, as a matter of fact, we are not usually the best of friends—you see, well——" He broke off, finding this position rather more awkward than the others had been.