“It may one day be of vital interest to you,” Markwick said menacingly, as he carefully refolded the paper and placed it again in his pocket.
Jack gave vent to a dry, hollow laugh, saying: “It is certainly a strange affair altogether, but surely this is not news to you. I heard of Sternroyd’s disappearance weeks ago.”
“You were perhaps the first person aware of it—eh?” observed Markwick caustically.
“By that remark you insinuate that I possess knowledge which I have not disclosed,” Jack answered brusquely. “Both the Countess and yourself have perfect liberty to form your own conclusions, and they would be amusing were it not for the gravity of the question involved, namely, whether or not Gilbert Sternroyd has met with foul play.”
“He has met with foul play,” cried Markwick sternly. “And you alone know the truth.”
This direct accusation startled me. I glanced at my friend. He was standing upright, rigid, silent, his terrified eyes gazing fixedly into space.
But for a moment only. Suddenly, he again sprang towards his accuser, and facing him boldly, cried:
“You’re endeavouring to fasten upon me the responsibility of young Sternroyd’s disappearance! Well, do what you will. I do not fear you,” and a strange laugh escaped his lips. “Arrest me, put me in a criminal’s dock, bring forward your array of counsel, your evidence, and the results of your accursed espionage, then, when you have finished I will speak. But before you do this, before you advance one step further upon the dangerous course you are now pursuing, remember that slander is an offence against the law; remember that in such evidence as must be given in an assize court certain persons must be seriously compromised, and do not forget that the very weapon by which I shall defend my own honour will be one that must prove disastrous to yourself. I have said enough. Go!”
Markwick was amazed at this unexpected outburst. He, like myself, had apparently expected Jack to confess to the crime of which we both suspected him, but by this firm declaration of innocence it almost seemed as though we were both mistaken. Yet in that brief moment I remembered his refusal to allow me to enter the room in which he had undoubtedly concealed the body. I reflected upon the many suspicions that had been aroused within me. No! I was still convinced of his guilt, notwithstanding his denial. The fact seemed apparent that he possessed a secret of Markwick’s, and felt secure because he knew that this man dare not risk the dire consequences of its revelation.
“Then am I to understand that you absolutely defy us?” asked the mysterious friend of Sybil.