"Yes, that was what he meant." "And, do you not think, Mrs. Stannard, that he would have said that to shield you both, even if one had been guilty?" Joyce Stannard turned white. "I--I never thought of that," she stammered. "Perhaps he would." "But you feel sure, at this moment, that it was not Miss Vernon who killed your husband?" Joyce looked utterly miserable. Her eyes were frightened like those of a hunted animal. But she said, bravely, "I feel sure of that, Mr. Ford. Miss Vernon is not one who could do such a thing." "She doesn't seem to be. Will you go now, Mrs. Stannard, and please send Miss Vernon in here?" Joyce went slowly out of the studio, and in a moment Natalie Vernon came in. "Am I afraid of you?" she asked, as she sat facing Alan Ford. "Need I be?" Her questions were not prompted by coquetry, that was evident. Her tone was serious, and she looked at the detective wistfully. "No, Miss Vernon," he answered, seriously, "you have no reason to be afraid of me, but I will tell you frankly, you have great reason to fear the consequences if you tell me anything but the exact truth. Pardon me, if that seems a rude speech, but great issues are at stake and prevarication on your part to the slightest degree would baffle all my plans and hopes." "I will tell the truth," Natalie sighed, "so far as I know it. But sometimes it's very hard to be sure of what is true." "Yes, I know it. Now, Miss Vernon, just one word about the time and scene of the crime. When you came into the studio, because you heard--what did you hear?" Alan Ford's manner was calculated to set the nervous girl at her ease, and his kindliness made her calm and un-self-conscious. "I heard Eric moan." "Did you know at once it was Mr. Stannard?" "Oh, yes. It sounded like him, and I suppose he was in there." "What did you think ailed him?" "I don't believe I thought of that. I just heard the curious gasping sound, as of somebody choking, and I ran in. I didn't think,--I only wondered what was the trouble." "And when you entered the room was it light or dark?" "Honestly, I don't know, Mr. Ford. I've been so quizzed and questioned about it, that I can't seem to remember clearly." "But the lights went out?" "Yes, just as I entered, or a minute before." "Well, then, what was the first thing you saw?" "Must I tell that?" "Yes, and truly." "Then, the first thing I saw, as the light flashed on,--and it rather blinded me at first, you know. You see, I had been sitting on the Terrace, which was almost dark, then I entered the dark room, and so when the light came suddenly, it dazzled me, and I naturally looked straight ahead of me. I saw Mrs. Stannard, behind her husband, and near the Billiard Room door." "As if she had just come in from that room?" "I think so,--now. I didn't think so then. I thought she had killed him, and had sort of stepped back, you know----" "Why did you change your mind?"