"But, Adam, think of the consequences to yourself," gasped Karl, aghast with dismay at this dangerous admission in the hearing of the officers.
"Oh, as to consequences, I shall be quite ready to take them," returned the prisoner, drawing himself up haughtily. "I never yet did aught that I was ashamed to acknowledge afterwards."
The Inspector ceased writing for a moment and turned round. "Sir Adam Andinnian, I would advise you for your own sake to be silent. Least said is soonest mended, you know, sir. A good rule to remember in all cases."
"Very good indeed, Walls," readily assented Sir Adam--who had previously been on speaking terms with the Inspector. "But if you think I shall attempt to disown what I've done, you are mistaken."
"It must have been an accident," urged poor Karl in a low tone, almost as though he were suggesting it. "I told Hewitt so."
"Hewitt knows better: he saw me take up the gun, level it, and shoot him," was the reply of Sir Adam, asserted openly. "Look here, Wall. The fellow courted his fate; courted it. I had assured him that if he dared to offend in a certain way again, I would shoot him as I'd shoot a dog. He set me at defiance and did it. Upon that, I carried out my promise, and shot him. I could not break my word, you know."
Just then a doubt crossed the Inspector's mind--as he related afterwards--that Sir Adam Andinnian was not in his right senses.
"And the mother?" breathed Karl.
" There's the worst of it," returned Sir Adam, his tone quickly changing to grave concern. "For her sake, I could almost regret it. You must go off to Foxwood to-morrow, Karl, and break it to her."
What a task it was! Never in all Karl's life had one like unto it been imposed upon him. With the early morning he started for Foxwood: and it seemed to him that he would rather have started to his grave.