“There’s not much more to tell,” pursued Kean. “It was too late to pick up the London train at Whitbury, so I drove straight to Carlisle, counting on the fact that the express waited there for an hour. I just had time to garage the car and catch the train, arriving in London at the same hour and by the same train I should have arrived by had I taken it direct from Whitbury. I made a point of speaking to the three men who shared my table in the dining-car and went out of my way to give them a clue as to my profession, mentioning the fact that I had been staying at Staveley. I did not anticipate any trouble, but, had I been forced to prove an alibi, I have no doubt they would have come forward and it would have been taken for granted that I had travelled over the entire distance by train. But, from the time I left the farm, luck was against me. There was the collision with the farm-cart that put you onto the track of the mythical Page. You were right, by the way, about the number-plate. I broke it myself as a precaution. I had it replaced and the mudguard mended in Carlisle. You took it for granted that, when the car was removed from the first garage in Carlisle on March 26th it was driven to London. As a matter of fact, I simply moved it to one on the other side of the town, where I had the repairs executed and it stayed there till I picked it up on April 1st on my way to Staveley. The news that the case in which Leslie was to appear had been postponed and that he had already been notified was, I think, the greatest shock I have ever had. I had been so absolutely certain that he was in London. It was as though an abyss had opened under my feet. Until I actually saw the papers and read the first description of the case I hoped that he might not have received the notification in time. As soon as I saw them I knew that, unless I could manage to get him off, I was faced with disaster.” He raised his clasped hands and brought them down so heavily on the table that it shook. “Everything was against me,” he exclaimed with uncontrollable bitterness. “If the police had not found Leslie’s revolver or if that wretched cat had not got caught in a trap, just at that particular moment in the whole of Leslie’s career, I could have got him off without a stain on his character. As it was, I was helpless from the beginning.” He rose, picked up the sheets of manuscript from the table, and joined Fayre. “The whole thing is here,” he said, handing them to him. “It is signed and witnessed by two of the servants. I believe they thought it was my will,” he added ironically. “I want you to take it to Grey first thing to-morrow.” Fayre sprang to his feet and laid his hand on the other man’s arm. “What are you going to do, Edward?” he asked. Kean hesitated. “Make a bolt for it, I suppose,” he said grimly. “I may bring it off with luck.” “Where will you go?” Kean looked at him curiously. “I don’t know,” he said. “On my word, Hatter, I don’t know.”