"Certainly. She had often seen him at Lord Bakefield's; he is a frequent visitor to the house."
"Then she was able to give you his name?"
"She told me his name."
"Well?"
"His name's Rolleston."
Simon gave a start.
"Rolleston!" he exclaimed. "But that's impossible! . . . Rolleston! What madness! . . . What's the fellow like? Give me a description of him."
"The man whom the maid and I saw is very tall, which enables him to bend over his victims and stab them from above between the shoulders. He is thin . . . stoops a little . . . and he's very pale. . . ."
"Stop!" ordered Simon, impressed by this description, which was that of Edward. "Stop! . . . The man is a friend of mine and I'll answer for him as I would for myself. Rolleston a murderer! What nonsense!"
And Simon broke into a nervous laugh, while the Indian, still impassive, resumed: