"You say, Drelincourt, that one of our first steps must be to set him at liberty," resumed Ormsby. "Now, I don't see that at all. He has seen fit to charge himself with the commission of a most heinous offense, and has put a lot of people to no end of worry and bother; consequently it will rest with him to thoroughly disprove his words before being allowed to regain his liberty. If I had my way, I would treat such pestilent fellows to a month on the treadmill."
"It is possible that Mr. Drelincourt may be in a position to throw an unexpected light on the affair," remarked Sir John in his blandest tones.
"In that case, of course----"
"It will assume an altogether different complexion from the one it wears at present. That goes without saying." It was Drelincourt who completed the sentence.
He drummed on the table for a few seconds with his finger tips. Then he resumed:
"A few days ago an enlightened British jury declared the man Gumley to be guilty of murder because, having confessed to being a thief, they assumed that he must of necessity be the author of the greater crime. It was a verdict, my dear Ormsby, in which I have no doubt you fully concurred."
"I did concur in it, and most fully. Twenty years ago I avowed my belief in Gumley's guilt, a belief which the result of the recent trial has fully justified, for of course I attach no credence to the so called confession of this hair brained Roden Marsh. No, sir, you may rely upon it that Gumley is the real criminal, and I shall receive with much satisfaction the news that he has been hanged."
"And yet, I am afraid, my dear Ormsby, that for once your usual acumen has been at fault--a rare occurrence, I admit--seeing that I happen to be in a position to prove that yonder poor devil now lying under sentence of death had no more to do with the tragic end of my first wife than either of you."
"God bless my soul!" ejaculated Ormsby.
"Drelincourt, you astound me," exclaimed Sir John. "Are we really to understand that you are in a position to prove Gumley's innocence?"