“Well, as a matter of fact,” he answered, looking me straight in the face, “I did.”
“You!” I cried.
“Yes,” he responded. “Belotto, who was madly jealous of her, took her for a walk in the wood on purpose, I believe, to get rid of her. Fortunately, however, I had suspicion of his intention, and followed him. Just as she was struck, I emerged and denounced him, but too late. He then attacked me, but I defended myself. Then fearing the girl would die, the others did all they could to succour her, as they dreaded that by her death they would all be arrested for murder.”
“Then the reason they left Hayes’s Farm so suddenly was because they were in fear of you?”
“Exactly. Marie Lejeune was equally afraid of me, and escaped with them—abroad, it seems.”
I related how the doctor, Pink, had been called to the girl, and of the investigations he and I made afterwards, whereupon he said, smiling—
“Yes, I know. I remained in the vicinity, and watched you both ride up to the house that afternoon.”
“And now you have told me so much, Mr Keene,” I said. “Have you no theory regarding the murder of Hugh Wingfield?”
“Ah! That’s quite another matter,” he said as a strange expression crossed his bearded features. “That’s a question which it is best for us not to discuss.”
“Why?”