"No, no, no!" said mademoiselle, her voice rising with her emphasis. "He never kill his brother; he not enough méchant for that."
"Perhaps he has not come in?" cried Mr. Dare, catching at the thought.
Betsy Garter answered the words. She had stolen up in the general restlessness, and halted there. "He must be come in, sir," she said; "else how could his cloak be in the dining-room? They are saying that it's Mr. Herbert's cloak which was under Mr. Anthony."
"What has Mr. Herbert's cloak to do with his coming in or not coming in?" sharply asked Mr. Dare. "He would not be wearing his cloak this weather."
"But he does wear it, sir," returned Betsy. "He went out in it to-night."
"Did you see him?" sternly asked Mr. Dare.
"If I hadn't seen him, I couldn't have told that he went out in it," independently replied Betsy, who, like her mother, was fond of maintaining her own opinion. "I was looking out of the window in Miss Adelaide's room, and I saw Mr. Herbert go out by way of the dining-room window towards the entrance-gate."
"Wearing his cloak?"
"Wearing his cloak," assented Betsy, "I hoped he was hot enough in it."
The words seemed to carry terrible conviction to Mr. Dare's mind. Unwilling to believe the girl, he sought Joseph and asked him.