"And my brother?—my poor unfortunate brother?" cried she in a wrung voice. "He had no share in the crime, I'll swear it, Mr. Cleek. Even your magic cannot prove that."
"Not in the crime actually, Lady Paula, but in—other things," he replied a trifle grimly, glancing again at the flushed face of the prisoner. "For as a blackmailer I fancy he is something of an artist. That fact you already know—to your cost, I fancy. And I think I'm not wrong in saying that it was he who suggested to you the stealing of the will and——"
"I begged him not to, Mr. Cleek! I implored. I did— I swear it. And I never stole the will, that I can promise!" she broke in distractedly, beating her hands together. "Antoni suggested—yes—he wished to destroy it, so that my share of the estate might be greater as widow than that which had been apportioned to me, and of course he would have a portion of that, too. But I implored him not—that is true, is it not, Antoni? You can answer to that? I begged you, and you promised! And he threatened me even with exposure if I did not agree to the preposterous idea! I complied, only upon the promise that it should not be destroyed. But who took it I do not know."
"But I think I can pretty well guess," responded Cleek serenely, with a quick look at Cyril's suddenly flushed face. "Your son, Lady Paula, has much of his uncle's blood in his veins. And he acted, no doubt, upon forceful advice, and carried the thing through quite successfully. Perhaps he will tell us just when he decided to steal his own father's will—at the instigation of an unscrupulous relation."
Came a slight pause in the telling, meanwhile a startled exclamation broke from Ross Duggan's lips, while every eye in that little assembly fastened upon the unfortunate boy. He broke into quiet sobbing, darting his eyes here and there for possible sympathy.
"Yes, I took it, sir—when Uncle Antoni told me," he broke out between sobs. "It was—just after it had happened. I heard Mother's scream, and then she ran into my room and told me of—the dreadful thing that had happened! About half an hour afterward Uncle Antoni appeared at the balcony which opens out from my bedroom window, and told me I must steal the will for him. I was terrified—oh, I was!—but he threatened me with—with a pistol——"
"That's a lie!" gave out the prisoner with a maledictory eye upon his unfilial nephew.
"It isn't—it isn't! You told me to get it—just how to get it. That it was lying upon the table-top; and so I slipped down in my stockinged feet, and waited in the passage until I saw Ross slip out of the room after everyone else had gone back to bed, and—and you had come out, Mr. Cleek, and were talking to Maud in the ante-room. So I crept into the room—oh, it was dreadful, with Father lying there—like that—snatched it up and fled back to my bedroom in terror. Uncle Antoni was still waiting on the balcony, and when he got it he climbed down the balustrade again and—and—that is all I know. Oh, I wish—I wish I'd never had anything to do with it!"
Cleek nodded.
"I'm sure you do," he said quietly. "So it was really not your fault, Cyril. You acted under considerable pressure. That I'll admit. But it might have been better if you had confided in—someone else after the deed was done. It would have helped clear up the mystery sooner, at any rate. But that cannot be helped now. To proceed with the story. Here, by the way, is the missing will, Lady Paula. I found it muffling the clapper of Rhea's bell—a very ingenious hiding-place—and in the finding discovered your—er—worthy brother at the same time. That was how I happened to get hold of him. He gave me a few tips of quite useful information afterward, upon promise of a light sentence, and helped to lead me finally to the true murderer. So we will hold that in his favour, at any rate. Sir Ross, I'd prefer you to keep that document until it can be placed in the hands of your family lawyer. We don't want any more disappearing tricks for the present, do we?"