There was something in the tone in which these words were uttered which caused the young man to look swiftly at the detective from beneath furrowed brows. "You seem to have constituted yourself the champion of this scoundrel," he said, in a changed harsh voice. Musard glanced from one to the other with troubled eyes. There was a growing hint of menace in their conversation which his mind, deeply agitated by the strange disclosures of the evening, could only fear without fathoming. "I do not understand you," he said simply, addressing himself to Colwyn. "If this man Nepcote did not commit the murder, who did? Was it not he who was in the bedroom when Hazel Rath went there in the dark?" "No," said Colwyn; "it was not he." "Who was the man, then, who clutched Hazel Rath, by the throat?" persisted Musard. "It was no man," responded Colwyn, in a gloomy voice. "_That_ was the point which baffled me for hours when I thought the whole truth was within my grasp. Again and again I sought vainly for the answer, until, in mental weariness and utter despair, I was tempted to believe that the powers of evil had combined to shield the perpetrator of this atrocious murder from justice. Then it came to me--the last horrible revelation in this hellish plot. It was the hand of the dying woman, spasmodically clutching at the empty air in her death agonies, which accidentally came in contact with Hazel Rath's throat, and loosened her brooch." "Oh, this is too terrible," murmured Musard. His swarthy face showed an ashen tint. "What do you mean? What are you keeping back? Where does all this lead to?" "It leads to the exposure of the trick--the trick of a false report by which the murderer sought to procure an alibi and revenge." "What do you mean? What have you found out?" cried Phil, leaping to his feet and facing Colwyn. As he uttered the words, a loud shot in the room overhead rang out with startling distinctness. "I mean--that," said Colwyn quietly. Even up to the moment of his experiment he was not quite certain. But in the one swift glance they exchanged, everything was revealed to each of them. Before Musard could frame the question which trembled on his amazed lips, Phil spoke. His face was very white, and his dark eyes blazing: "Yes. That is it. You have found me out." His voice, deepened to a bitter intensity, had a deliberate intonation which was almost solemn. "What did they do to me? Shall I ever forget my feelings when, unobserved by them, I caught them in the house one day, whispering and kissing? I walked straight out into the woods to be alone with my shame. My brain was on fire. When I recalled his lecherous looks and her wanton meaning glances I was tempted to destroy myself in misery and despair. Human nature--ah, God, what a beastly thing it is. I had trusted them both so utterly--I loved her so deeply. How had they repaid my trust and love? By deceiving me, under my eyes, in my own home, before my marriage was three months old.