"I trust you are better, Mr. Heredith," said the detective smoothly. "I am sorry to trouble you so soon after your illness, but there is a point we would like to settle before the trial of the woman who is charged with murdering your wife. We want, if possible, to establish the ownership of the weapon with which the murder was committed." He produced a revolver from the pocket of his light overcoat as he spoke. "In view of the evidence, the identification of the weapon does not matter much one way or another, but it is as well to fix the point, if we can. The girl refuses to say where she obtained the revolver--indeed, she remains stubbornly silent about the crime, and refuses to say anything about it. That doesn't matter very much either, because the evidence against her is so strong that she is bound to be convicted. Can you tell me anything about the revolver, Mr. Heredith? Do you recognize it?" Phil was turning the revolver over in his hands, examining it closely. "Yes," he said. "I recognize it. It belongs to Captain Nepcote." "Captain Nepcote? Who is he?" "He is a friend of my nephew's who was staying here, but left the afternoon of the day the murder was committed," said Miss Heredith. "He was recalled to the front, I understand. I gave his name to Superintendent Merrington as one of the guests who had been staying here." "How do you identify the revolver as his property?" asked Caldew, turning to Phil. "By the bullet mark in the handle. The day before my wife was killed it was raining, and some of the guests were down in the gun-room shooting at a target with Nepcote's revolver. He showed us this mark in the handle, and said that it had saved his life in France. He was leading his men in a night raid on the German lines, and a German officer fired at him at close range, but the bullet glanced off the handle of the revolver." "Then there can be no doubt Hazel Rath got it from the gun-room," said Caldew, returning the weapon to his pocket. "Captain Nepcote must have left it behind him there, and that is where Hazel Rath found it." "No, no! That seems impossible," said Phil. "Well, I think it is quite possible," replied Caldew. "Is it your opinion, then, that Miss Rath is guilty?" demanded Phil, with a note of sharp anger in his voice. "Phil!" said Miss Heredith. "You must not excite yourself." But the young man took no notice of his aunt's gentle remonstrance. His eyes were fixed on the detective. "I have not the least doubt of it," was the detective's cold response. "I must say I think you have made a terrible mistake," Phil said, striding about the room in a state of great agitation. "Hazel would not--she could not--have done this thing." He wheeled sharply around, as though struck by a sudden thought. "Are the jewels safe?" he added. "Yes," said Miss Heredith. "We found Violet's jewel-case locked, so I put it away in the library safe."