"There." She pointed one side, to the bay-window, before which now stood Paddy the Brick. The latter would have drawn away, but the Governor stayed him with a gesture. "No, stand where you are, if you please," he said. And Paddy the Brick stood still, shifting his feet and ill-at-ease, his narrow eyes turning stealthily toward Craig. To Echo the illusion was considerable, for the room was not unlike that other library in which had occurred the scene she was so painfully redrawing. There was the same effect of rich bookcases, of desk and picture-hung walls, and in lieu of the alcove was the big double window with its heavy drawn curtains. The Governor stretched his hand and tilted the shade of the lamp, so that its light fell full upon the latter, lighting the cringing face of the stool-pigeon before it. "What was the man who shot like?" he asked. "He was middle-sized and thick-set, with light hair that sprang in a cowlick from his forehead. He..." She had stopped abruptly. She was staring with wide, horrified eyes at the man who stood blinking in the radiance--at the up-thrust, sand-coloured hair, the rounded shoulders, the red-rimmed eyes, which now held a trapped look of animal fear. She stiffened. She pointed at him. "_You!_" she cried. "_You are the man who fired that shot!_" CHAPTER XLIX THE GOVERNOR TAKES A HAND On the startled silence, already so tense with conflicting forces, the accusation fell with the suddenness of an electric shock. Its effect on Paddy the Brick was instantaneous. He drew back, his hand clutching at the curtains. He was looking not at Echo, but past her, at the Governor, who had risen towering in his place, and if ever guilt and the dread that is confession showed upon a face, it was written upon his, in lines unmistakable that he who ran might read. Craig started from his seat. "You fool!" he snarled at him. But Paddy the Brick gave him no glance. The fear of the hunted was upon him; he saw himself taken in a snare, the witnesses to his unpunished act confronting him, and clutching at him the hand of the Law. He turned, and with one desperate jerk, tore the hangings aside, and with arms before his face, plunged bodily through the shattering glass of the bay-window to the garden. So abrupt and fateful had been the crash of his headlong flight, that for a breath it seemed as if all there had been turned to stone. Craig first found voice. "Enough of this farce!" he cried. "Governor Eveland, this man is an escaped convict, and I call upon you to do your duty!" The Governor turned swiftly on him, his cavernous eyes flashing fire. His long forefinger shot out like a javelin.