"You _did_ murder him!" insisted Lady Jenny, fiercely. "I know where you found the revolver--not, as you say, on the grass--no! it was in the library on the night of the murder. Gilbert had been shooting at a mark in the afternoon; and at night--at nine o'clock--I heard voices in the library. It was you who were with him; you, who came to take away treasonable papers from my unhappy husband. You got what you wanted, and you got the weapon, and he went back with you to Mr. Scarse's cottage. You wanted to get rid of him without danger to yourself; you tried to lay the guilt on Harold Burton to rid yourself of a rival! You shot Gilbert in the orchards, and you threw away the revolver to implicate Harold and walked back to the cottage; you--you murderer!--you Cain!" She stopped, half choked by her emotions. Van Zwieten seized the opportunity to deny once again the truth of her accusation. "I tell you I did not kill Malet!" "Then who did?" "I don't know. I thought it was Captain Burton; upon my soul I did!" "Have you a soul?" Lady Jenny asked with scorn. "I should doubt it. However, I stick to my opinion--I believe that you killed my husband. Oh, you need not look alarmed, I am not going to give you up. I have done all I wanted--I have married Harold to Brenda by telling him I could keep you from accusing him of the murder!" "And can you?" sneered Van Zwieten. He was fighting every inch. "I am sure I can. I have your box, remember. For my husband's sake I spare you now. I don't want an honorable name to be smirched through him. I don't want to be pointed at as the widow of a spy and a traitor, otherwise I would denounce you as the spy and the murderer I truly believe you to be. This is my bargain, Mr. van Zwieten. You leave England at once, cease to persecute Captain Burton and his wife and I will hold my tongue." "And if I refuse?" he asked sullenly. "If you refuse I will have you arrested as you leave this house. You think I can't do that, but I can. I have made all my preparations. I have left nothing to chance. One does not leave things to chance in dealing with a man like you, Mr. van Zwieten," she sneered. "Wilfred Burton is outside with a couple of policemen. I have only to whistle and they will come up." But Van Zwieten was not so easily bluffed. "On what grounds, may I ask?" he said. "If you wanted to keep this matter quiet for the sake of your husband, you would not have told the police." "I have told them nothing about your spying business," she said calmly. "You will be arrested on a charge of being concerned in the murder of my husband, and I can assure you that if you are so arrested I will press the charge. On the other hand, if you agree to my terms, I will let you go free. I can easily make things right with the police by telling them that I have been mistaken. Oh, all this is not regular, I know; but I have some little political influence, and I am using it for my own benefit--and for yours, if it comes to that."