"Come now," said the Governor, "tell us what you know of this matter."
The jailer knew nothing. Changing repeatedly the leg on which he was standing and mopping his forehead with a coloured handkerchief, he protested absolute ignorance.
"After Miss Stanley left the Castle a piece after ten o'clock I locked the poor bogh in her cell...."
"Do you mean the prisoner?"
"Who else, your Excellency?"
"Then say the prisoner."
"Well, I locked the prisoner in her cell a piece after ten o'clock last night and when I went back at five this morning to take her a bite of breakfast...."
"Breakfast? Where was your female warder?"
"Mistress Mylrea? Sick of the heart since General Gaol. They're telling me she died last night, Sir."
"Where was your turnkey then?"