“Even yet I don’t understand. What was the cause of the bad blood between those two and how did you come to know of it?” “Surely,” Domlio protested, “it is not necessary to go into that? I am only accounting for my own actions.” “It is necessary in order to account for your own actions.” Domlio squared his shoulders. “I don’t think I should tell you, only that, unfortunately, it is pretty well common property. I hate dragging in a lady’s name, though you have already done it, but the truth is that they had had a misunderstanding about Mrs. Berlyn.” “About Mrs. Berlyn?” “Yes. She and Pyke saw rather too much of each other. I don’t for a moment believe there was the slightest cause for jealousy, but Berlyn was a bit exacting and he probably made a mountain out of a molehill. I knew Mrs. Berlyn pretty well myself, and I am certain that Berlyn had no real cause for complaint.” “You haven’t explained how you came to know of the affair?” “It was common property. I don’t think I can tell you where I first heard of it.” French considered for a moment. “There is another thing, Colonel Domlio. You said that when you heard the sergeant’s story you suspected the trouble between the two men had come to a head?” “Might have come to a head. Yes.” “Suppose it had. Why, then, did you fear that the sergeant might have suspected you?” Again Domlio hesitated. “That is a nasty question, Inspector,” he said at last, “but from what you asked me in my study you might guess the answer. As a matter of fact, I had myself seen a good deal of Mrs. Berlyn for some time previously. About this there was nothing in the slightest degree compromising. All through we were merely friends. Not only that, but Berlyn knew of our meetings and excursions. When he could he shared them, and he had not the slightest objection to our intimacy. But Daw wouldn’t know that. For all I could tell, the excellent scandalmongers of the district had coupled Mrs. Berlyn’s name with mine. Berlyn was dead and gone and he could not state his views. My word would not be believed, nor Mrs. Berlyn’s, neither, if she were dragged into it. I thought, at all events, I had better keep secret a mysterious excursion which might easily be misunderstood.” Not very convincing, French thought, as he rapidly considered what the colonel had told him. However, it _might_ be true. At all events, he had no evidence to justify an arrest. He therefore pretended that he fully accepted the statement, and, wishing the colonel a cheery good evening, stood aside to let the car pass. As he cycled slowly into Ashburton he kept turning over in his mind the question of whether there was any way in which he could test the truth of Colonel Domlio’s statement. Frankly, he did not believe the story. But unbelief was no use to him. He must prove it true or false.