The accusation was so absurd that Rupert merely shrugged his shoulders, and wondered why he had lost his temper with this gad-fly even for a moment. "I think you will find it difficult to prove that," he observed, suavely. "I did not see Leigh on the night he was murdered; I did not even call at the Vicarage, thanks to Carrington's advice. My servants can prove, if you like to question them, that I locked up and retired to bed at ten o'clock." "Oh, I dare say you did," scoffed Mallien; "but, remember, that Leigh was killed--if Dr. Tollart is to be believed--at eleven. It was easy for you to slip out of The Big House and come along to----" "I did not." Rupert started to his feet again, but maintained his calmness. "How can you prove that you did not?" "How can you prove that I did?" counterquestioned the Squire. Mallien rose and brushed the dust from his flannels. "I shall leave Lawson to find the proof," he cried, triumphantly. "Oh, yes. Once Lawson knows that the will, which would rob you of your property, exists, it will be easy for him to assign a cause why Leigh should have been murdered. Remember, the papers were all tumbled about, as Kensit can witness. The burglary business is all rubbish. It was to get the will that Leigh was murdered, and you are the culprit." Hendle did not reply for a moment, for so skillfully had the venomous little man built up the case, that he was quite taken aback. Then he remembered how Carrington had warned him that, if the business of the missing will was known, it was possible some such accusation might be brought. Thanks to Mrs. Beatson's treachery, Mallien had been placed in possession of dangerous facts, and Mallien, sooner than forego the chance of acquiring the Hendle property, was quite prepared to have his cousin handed over to the police. Not only was a strong motive for the murder provided, but Rupert knew that he would have the greatest difficulty in proving an alibi. After ten o'clock, all his own servants and the inhabitants of Barship were in bed, so it was perfectly feasible, on the face of it, that to protect his own interests he might have stolen through the village to commit the crime. Of course, he knew very well that he had not; that any idea of securing the will in this way had never entered his head. Nevertheless, the position was both uncomfortable and dangerous, and, for the moment, he did not know what to say. Mallien noted his cousin's silence, and concluded that guilt prevented his speech. "You can't deny what I say," he cried viciously. "I am too much taken aback by your audacity to reply, or to deny," retorted the young man, drawing a deep breath. "Knowing me as you do, can you think me guilty of so cowardly a crime, as to strike down an old man?" "I think you capable of acting anyhow to retain your own property," answered Mallien cynically.