"Oh, knowing that Milly was deceiving Herne, the old gipsy fancied she might take the law into her own hands, and kill her; hence the prophecy about a violent death." "My dear Mexton, all this is pure theory." "True. I am waiting to hear you state the facts of the case." "You shall," said Lovel, resuming his seat. "And, pray, attention, please! You may be able to make more out of the matter than I. On that night I met Milly in the Winding Lane about a quarter past eight. We walked up to the stile at the end where the lane goes out into the common. While walking I saw Brent, and bribed him to say nothing." "You paid him well," interjected Paul--"five pounds." "I did not pay him at all on that night," replied Lovel, gloomily, "but next day, after the murder. I told him that I was innocent, but in peril, and gave him five pounds, with the promise of more when he wanted it." "You bribed him lest he should inculpate you in the murder?" "That's about it," confessed Lovel. "But if Brent hadn't thought me innocent he would not have taken the money. I'll do him that justice." "I think you do him too much justice," said Paul, coolly. "Brent is a scamp, and would accept your money even though it were blood-stained. Go on, please, Mr. Lovel." "I was talking to Milly, standing by the stile," continued the young man, "and there I was telling her about Herne's flirtation with Catinka. Of course, I knew that there was no flirtation, but I wanted to make Milly jealous, so that she should break off the match with Herne and marry me. Well, while we were talking the clock in St. Dunstan's Church began to strike nine, and Milly, saying she must go home, stepped away a short distance. At that moment a shot was fired, and with a cry the poor girl fell. If you only knew what I felt when I saw her fall!" cried Lovel, clasping his hands. "I did not see from what direction the shot came, but bent over Milly. She moved a little, and then died." "And you?" asked Mexton, who was following this narrative with intense interest. "I rose from my knees when she was dead and rushed into the bushes to see who had killed her. I could see no one at first, but I heard the sound as if some one was retreating. I followed quickly, and in the shadow of the trees some distance away I saw--Darcy Herne!" "He had killed her!" cried Paul, rising.