Annette raised her big eyes and looked into the strong face of the questioner. There was an infinitesimal flicker of her eyelids.

“You mean I saw him—fire?”

“Just that.”

The answer came fiercely and at once.

“Yes!” she cried.

“The Wolf?”

“Yes.”

The girl’s eyes were steady enough now. They were hard, and cold, and cruelly fierce.

She turned again to the frozen body, and the lantern set queer shadows moving in the crevices of the cave. Fyles was on the point of questioning her presence at the moment of the murder. But he refrained.

“You stand pat for your story?” he asked.