"Horran never, during our earlier interviews, touched on the subject of the loan, and the matter was never discussed. It was only of late, when I found that I could not pay the interest, that I wished to speak of my difficulties, and then Jerce would not allow me to see my old friend." "He was quite right," said Clarice, reproachfully, "seeing how ill Uncle Henry was, and you did upset him, you know." "Barras upset him," expostulated the vicar. "He was angry with Barras, not with me, and declared that I should have spoken before. He also said that Jerce had no right to prevent my seeing him, and that there was no need for me to go to the front door. When I wished to see him, he said, I could enter by the French window, which was generally open." "Yes, it was," said Miss Baird, thinking of the difference of opinion which existed between the two doctors; "but why did you choose so late an hour to enter by that way?" Clarke hesitated and looked down. "I was much disturbed on the night of the crime. I had received bad news. Unable to sleep, I walked in my garden." "On that bitterly cold night?" "Oh, the thaw had come by that time, you know. I left my garden and walked about the town. I had no idea of going to see Horran, for at that time I knew that he would be asleep. However, I walked back to the vicarage up the lane, and saw a light in the bedroom and the window open." "You are certain that it was open?" asked Clarice. "I entered by it, as I thought I would see if Horran was asleep or awake, and then--" "Well. Was he asleep or awake?" "He was dead," said the vicar, with great emotion. "He was lying in bed with the clothes in disorder, and his breast streaming with blood." "With the clothes in disorder," echoed Clarice, raising herself. "Why, when I saw poor Uncle Henry's corpse, the clothes were carefully arranged and smoothed." "I did that," said Mr. Clarke, in a broken voice. "I saw that he was dead, so I arranged the clothes and hastily went away, without touching anything in the room." "Why did you not give the alarm?" "Why!" cried Clarke, astonished; "when I might have been accused of committing the crime? Am I a fool, Clarice? My mere presence at such an hour would have accused me. No! I returned home, and said nothing about what I had seen. It was a few minutes past two o'clock when I regained my bed." "And," Clarice asked the question in a low, anxious voice, "did you see anyone within or without the house?" "No. I saw no one and heard nothing. Who was it saw me?" "Zara Dumps, who had gone out late at night to procure medicine for her mother." "And why did she not accuse me?" "She did, to Prudence, and so made Prudence give up Ferdy, whom Zara wishes to marry." "Then Zara made a false accusation, and I wonder that my daughter believed her." "She did not at first," explained Clarice, "but Prudence found blood on the cuffs of a shirt you had worn."