"Yes I did. I arranged to meet Aunt Julia at Anne's house at five o'clock. I got there before that time." "Then you were at Mootley on the evening of the murder." "I have never denied it," she said, cresting her head like a snake and looking haughty, "but I do deny that I was in the house when the crime was committed. I was not the woman who ran away with your motor car, whatever Aunt Julia may say." "Who was the woman, then?" "I don't know. I never set eyes on her." "Ah!" said I thoughtfully, "talking of eyes, was Mrs. Caldershaw's glass optic in her head when you spoke to her?" "Yes, it was. And remember, please, that I never knew--as it appears from your ingenious theory--that the secret was hidden in that eye. I came at half-past four, and went into the back room, where I talked with Anne. I related to her what I had discovered, and asked her to tell me where the diamonds were. She said she did not know." "She did not know," I echoed in utter astonishment. "So she said. She declared that Uncle Gabriel had given her a cipher, in which he had concealed the whereabouts of the diamonds. Anne could not read it herself, so she had no idea of where the jewels were." "Did you ask her for the cipher?" "Yes, I did. She refused to give it to me." "On what grounds?" Gertrude grew red and looked nervously into the fire. "I may as well be quite frank," she said, with an outburst of candor. "Anne really did wish me to marry her nephew, and said she would give me the cipher if I promised to marry Joseph. I refused, and then----" "Well, what then?" I asked impatiently, and indignant at the plot between the dead woman and the gardener to force Miss Monk into unwilling matrimony. "Then I heard a voice in the shop calling for Mrs. Caldershaw. She went away, and shortly afterwards returned to ask me to leave at once. There was someone who wished to speak to her, and she did not wish me to meet this person. Therefore she asked me to leave at once." "Did you know who this person was?" Gertrude hesitated. "I could answer you that frankly," she said, after a pause, "as I caught a glimpse of the person through the half-open shop door. The mere sight of this person sent me away, as I did not wish to meet----" Here she hesitated. "Him or her?" I asked inquisitively. "I would rather not say just now," she replied with reserve. "But you must say," I insisted. "Don't you see that this person, whether man or woman, may have been the one who murdered Mrs. Caldershaw." She grew pale. "I have thought of that myself," she said hurriedly, "therefore I refuse to tell you who the person was. If a certain contingency happens I shall speak out." "You won't tell me now?" I said, somewhat wounded.