Clem administered a restorative. Had his patient's revelation had reference to any matter of lesser importance than the rehabilitation of John Brancker's good name in the eyes of the world, he would have positively forbidden him to say another word; but there was no knowing how he might be on the morrow, and it might prove of vital consequence that he should tell all he knew while there was still a possibility of his being able to do so.
"Both at the inquest and the trial I perjured myself," went on the sick man. "I was asked whether I saw Mr. Brancker leave the Bank after he had parted from me, and had entered it with the avowed purpose of fetching his umbrella. My answer was that I did not see him leave the Bank. My saying so was a lie. I saw him leave it within four minutes of the time he entered it. He was there just long enough to enable him to find his umbrella, but not long enough to commit either murder or robbery, much less both, even supposing him to have been wishful of doing so.
"But what was your object in thus perjuring yourself?" demanded Clement, with an air of stupefaction. "What end had you to gain by not speaking the truth?"
"By telling the truth I should have brought about my own ruin. Mr. Avison would never have forgiven me had I confessed to opening John Brancker's drawer with a false key. He would have discharged me on the spot."
"I can understand the reasons for your reticence so far as that part of the case is concerned, but why did you swear that you had not seen Mr. Brancker leave the Bank?"
"Because I was a moral coward. When the coroner put the question to me I was flurried in my mind, and hardly knew what answer I was giving. My chief thought at the time was to divert suspicion from myself; in saying what I did I had not the slightest notion that it would tell in any way against Mr. Brancker, but having once sworn that such was the truth, I was afraid to go back from it at the trial." Then, after a little space of silence, he added: "I want you to believe this, Mr. Clement: if Mr. Brancker had been brought in guilty, I should have told all I knew, whatever might have been the cost to myself. And that is the solemn truth."
Clem was at a loss what reply to make to the strange statement of which he had been made the recipient. Both reproach and vituperation, even had he been willing to indulge in either, were out of the question with a man in his patient's condition. At length he said:
"I presume you have no objection to my telling Mr. Brancker what you have just told me, leaving him to act in the matter in whatever way may seem most advisable to him?"
"That is exactly what I am desirous you should do; and do not forget, please, to tell him how sincerely I regret the injury I have done him. That he will accord me his forgiveness is more than I dare hope."
Clement rose and took up his hat.