"I don't agree with you, since he is so scrupulously honest. If the money is yours, you will have it, so why should Hendle murder a man to get what in the end would not benefit him? Now, you----" "I tell you, Carrington, I did not touch the man!" vociferated Mallien. "Bosh! You struck him down and got the will and buried it under the sundial, as you know. Then you made use of Mrs. Beatson to avert suspicion from yourself by sending the anonymous letter telling where it was." "I didn't send the letter," insisted Mallien, looking gray and worn. "You did. You were in Town for a few days, and while you were away, the housekeeper got the letter. Since you had promised her an annuity of two hundred a year, you knew very well that she would give the will to you rather than to Hendle. It was a very clever scheme, Mallien." "You are talking rubbish!" cried the man in consternation, for he saw how strong was the evidence against him. "How can you prove that I was at the Vicarage on that night?" "Where is your opal in the matrix?" asked Carrington, glancing at Mallien's watch chain significantly. "I--I--I--lost it," hesitated the other. "You did, and Hendle found it in my presence near the sundial; on the very verge of the hole wherein you buried the will." The listener made an inarticulate noise and clutched his hair. "It's fate, it's fate!" he muttered. "Everything is against me, yet I am innocent." "Prove that you are so," said Carrington, leaning back in his chair indolently smiling. Mallien hesitated, then seeing that the barrister knew so much, rushed into an explanation, which he would not have made to a less well-informed person. It was as if a dam had broken, so volubly did the words come tumbling out. Carrington listened attentively. "I _was_ at the Vicarage on that night," confessed the visitor swiftly. "After Mrs. Beatson told me I thought that I would get the will from Leigh, since I was not sure if Rupert would act straightforwardly." "Knowing Hendle as you do, why did you think that?" "The most honest of men might hesitate before stripping himself of all his wealth," retorted Mallien sharply. "However, that is not to the point. I made up my mind to go and then I changed it again. I went to bed determined to go in the morning, but, unable to sleep, I decided to visit the vicar on that night. I rose and, putting on my clothes, went out. As I left my cottage, I heard the church clock chime eleven." "Oh!" sneered Carrington, remembering the hour of the murder, "then you did not commit the crime?" "No, I didn't," snarled Mallien viciously. "I got to the Vicarage and, in the darkness of the avenue, I stumbled against a man." "Who was he?"