"Guilty of what, my lord? Of a murder which was committed while you were still in France--" asked Griggs, lifting his eyebrows incredulously. "Yes! I mean I instigated it--I hated my cousin--I needed the money, so I hired an accomplice. He bungled things. I give myself up. I confess. What more do you want?" cried Cyril. "Not so fast, my lord. Of course, if you insist upon it, I shall have to arrest you, but I don't believe you had anything more to do with the murder than I had, and I would stake my reputation on your being as straight a gentleman as I ever met professionally. Wait a bit, my lord, don't be 'asty." In his excitement Griggs dropped one of his carefully guarded aitches. The door opened. "Mr. Campbell, my lord." "Guy," exclaimed Cyril. "You have arrived in the nick of time. I have confessed." "Confessed what?" Campbell cast a bewildered look at the inspector. "His Lordship says that he hired an assassin to murder Lord Wilmersley." "What rot! You don't believe him, I hope?" "He _shall_ believe me," cried Cyril. "I alone am responsible for Wilmersley's death. The person who actually fired the shot was nothing but my tool. I will never betray him, never!" "Honour among murderers, I see! Really, Cyril, you are too ridiculous," exclaimed Campbell. Suddenly he caught sight of Amy, cowering in the shadow of the curtain. "Who is this lady?" he asked. "My wife! Look after her. Look after everything." Cyril gave Guy a look in which he tried to convey all that he did not dare to say. The door again opened. "Mr. Judson is 'ere, my lord. I told him you were engaged, but he says he would like to speak to you most particular." "I don't want to see him," began Cyril. "Don't be a greater fool than you can help," exclaimed Campbell. "How do you know that he has not some important news?" "But--" objected Cyril. "Good morning, your Lordship. How do you do, Inspector. Mr. Campbell, I believe. Your servant, your Ladyship. I took the liberty of forcing myself upon you at this moment, my lord, because I have just learnt certain facts which----" "It is too late to report," interposed Cyril hastily. "I have confessed." The detective smiled indulgently. "Why, my lord, what is the use of pretending that you had anything to do with the murder? I hurried here to tell you that there is no further need of your sacrificing yourself. I have found out who----" "Shut up, I say. I did it. It's none of your business anyhow!" cried Cyril incoherently. "Don't listen to his Lordship," said Amy. "We all know, of course, that he is perfectly innocent. He is trying to shield some one. But who?" She cast a keen look at Cyril. "That's just it," Judson agreed. "And it is partly my fault. I convinced his Lordship that Lord Wilmersley was murdered by his wife. I have come here to tell him that I was mistaken. It is lucky that I discovered the truth in time."