"She would have to if she came up the lane to go to the High Street," remarked Clarice, trying mentally to follow the wanderings of Butterfly, so as to be certain of the truth of her evidence. "It was a moonlight night, and Sarah kept in the shadow on the other side of the lane, so that no one should see her going out so late." "Why should she have done that? Did she expect to meet anyone?" "She said something about the chances of meeting a policeman," was Prudence's reply. "Do let me get on with the story, Clarice, or I'll never get it finished." "I am all attention." "Well, then, Sarah says that she saw my father come quickly out of the window of your uncle's bedroom, and run out of the garden and up the lane. She was in the shadow, and he passed her rapidly, but she saw for one second in the moonlight, his face, white and terrified. She went and got the sal volatile, and told no one of what she had seen, not even her mother, until she came to use her knowledge to part me from Ferdy." When Prudence paused, Clarice looked at her with an unmoved face. "Well, my dear?" "Well," said Prudence, "that is Sarah Dumps' story." "A very weak one. I believe she made it up. She could not get your father arrested on that evidence." "But, Clarice," Prudence placed her lips at the girl's ear; "I laughed at Sarah's wild story. But when she went I examined my father's bedroom. I found a shirt thrown into the washing basket, which had not been called for--the basket, I mean--owing to the holidays. I found that the wrists were spotted with blood." "Oh!" Clarice started. "Are you certain that it was blood?" "Quite certain. I dipped one of the cuffs in water, and the spots turned perfectly red. Clarice," she gripped her friend's hand tightly, "do you think that my father really is guilty?" "I can't think that, Prudence. He had no reason--everything was arranged between him and Uncle Henry." "Yes. Father said that at the inquest, but he may have told an untruth to shield himself." "Prudence, do you believe that your father is guilty?" "Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. Father has had so much worry that he is not always accountable for his actions. He may have gone out in a frenzy, and, finding the window open, he may have--oh!" The poor girl broke off, weeping. "What am I to do?" "Ask your father to prove his innocence." "I dare not, Clarice. What with his own troubles and the death of Frank, and this mysterious wickedness of which Frank has been guilty, poor father is nearly crazy. Did he know that he was accused of murder he would go out of his mind altogether." "But if Sarah Dumps tells the police, he----" "She will hold her tongue. I said that I would give up Ferdy. I wrote and told Ferdy that I could not marry him, and said that my father did not approve of the match."