“I was filled with horror,” he went on, “at what I had done, naturally. But he was dead and couldn’t be brought to life again. It was as I was going downstairs I saw how thoughtless I’d acted. People that didn’t know him might think Mr. John had had a hand in it. So, after seeing that Sir Roger was really dead, I went and fastened up the drawing-room window, using my handkerchief, as Miss Evelyn guessed, to clean the sill in case of boot-marks. Then I came back and thought what was best to be done. First I picked up the cigarette box and put it down beside Sir Roger—I wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t been agitated; I was just thinking that would seem as if Sir Roger had come on some burglar, and, having shut Mr. John out, I didn’t think of him any more—but I was agitated and didn’t think clear. Then I picked up the statuette, wiped it with my handkerchief and put it back on the bracket upstairs. If I hadn’t been hurried I should have seen I had blood on my shoe. I made a great many mistakes.” He sighed deeply. “I ought to have broken the pantry window then, but I didn’t think it out. I saw that I had to be in bed when the body was found, and I knew Mr. Castle was still in his study: so I hurried to my room and I only just had time to get undressed and into bed before Mr. Castle came along. That’s just what happened.” He sighed again heavily and sat still, looking old and wearied but still indomitably respectable. There was a long silence when he had finished, broken only by the stertorous breathing of Birts as he waited for orders from his superior officer; it was the most dramatic moment of Birts’s life and would be told by him with proper pride for years afterwards. “You will remain in charge of the prisoner, Birts,” said Humblethorne at length. “I will see what Miss Temple has to show me.” “Very good, sir,” replied Birts stolidly. “Let us go up,” said Evelyn hurriedly; this was dreadful. She paused a moment, hesitating before Fairlie: she could not leave him without a word. “Oh, Fairlie,” she cried suddenly, “I am terribly sorry! Why, why did you do it?” “Don’t take on, Miss Evelyn,” Fairlie replied looking up, the light of kindly affection coming for an instant over his sombre face. “What’s done is done. I didn’t think things out: that was where I went wrong.” His face settled back into solemn imperturbability, and with a heavy load upon her heart Evelyn led Humblethorne upstairs. When she had shown him the bracket on which the statuette had stood and the footprint below it, she briefly described the course of her investigations from that point, omitting, however, all reference to her doubts of John and Philip. Then she took him to her room and handed over to his charge the statuette and the handkerchief and the glass and tray which had identified the thumb marks. “I acted carefully on the information you kindly gave me,” she said. “It was not as difficult as I had supposed.”