"Well?" said Carrington in an encouraging voice. "So much for the direct evidence. I may be wrong, but that is my decided opinion. No bad characters are known to the police to have been in the county at that time, and there was no robbery." "Apparently confirming the direct evidence?" "Decidedly confirming it--or so it seems to me." "Then you think there is something in the popular theory that the present baronet and Miss Farmond were the guilty parties?" Simon was silent for a moment, but his face was unusually expressive. "I fear it looks like it." "An unpleasant conclusion for you to come to," observed Mr. Carrington. "You are the family lawyer, I understand." "Very unpleasant," Mr. Rattar agreed. "But, of course, there is no absolute proof." "Naturally; or they'd have been arrested by now. What sort of a fellow is Sir Malcolm?" "My own experience of him," said the lawyer drily, "is chiefly confined to his visits to my office to borrow money of me." "Indeed?" said Carrington with interest. "That sort of fellow, is he? He writes, I understand." Simon nodded. "Any other known vices?" "I know little about his vices except that they cost him considerably more than he could possibly have paid, had it not been for Sir Reginald's death." "So the motive is plain enough. Any evidence against him?" Simon pursed his lips and became exceedingly grave. "When questioned next morning by the superintendent of police and myself, he led us to understand that he had retired to bed early and was in no position to hear or notice anything. I have since found that he was in the habit of sitting up late." "'In the habit,'" repeated Carrington quickly. "But you don't suggest he sat up that night in particular?" "Undoubtedly he sat up that night." "But merely as he always did?" "He might have been waiting for his chance on the previous nights." Carrington smoked thoughtfully for a moment and then asked: "But there is no evidence that he left his room or was heard moving about that night, is there?" "There is not yet any positive evidence. But he was obviously in a position to do so." "Was his room near or over the library?" "N--no," said the fiscal, and there seemed to be a hint of reluctance in his voice. Carrington glanced at him quickly and then gazed up at the ceiling. "What sort of a girl is Miss Farmond?" he enquired next. "She is the illegitimate daughter of a brother of the late Sir Reginald's." Carrington nodded. "So I gathered from the local gossips. But that fact is hardly against her, is it?" "Why not?" Carrington looked a little surprised. "Girls don't generally murder their uncles for choice, in my own experience; especially if they are also their benefactors." "This was hardly the usual relationship," said the lawyer with a touch of significance. "Do you suggest that the irregularity is apt to breed crime?" Simon's grunt seemed to signify considerable doubt as to the morals of the type of relative.