"There are only three chambers loaded," said Bess thickly. In a flash she remembered the three shots fired into the dead body--and the conical shape of the bullets. Those in the weapon she held were conical in shape. "Nonsense," said Stephen nervously. "I always kept the whole six loaded. You must be making a mistake," he took the revolver from her and examined it closely. "You are right," he said with a long breath. "Three of them _are_ empty." As he spoke he looked up apparently with indifference. When his eye caught hers he saw something in her expression which made him start and flush crimson. For a moment they looked at one another. Then Stephen swung himself up to a sitting position and laid the pistol on the side table. "Why do you look at me like that Bess?" he asked in a hurried tone. For a minute she did not reply. But she felt that she must know the truth, and burst out hurriedly "Stephen! You were on the lawn on the night your uncle was killed!" The young man started to his feet, and then fell back again on the sofa white, and amazed. "How do know?" he stuttered. "Sidney saw you. He told me. Oh, Stephen,--three chambers of your revolver empty--three shots at----" she felt suffocated and could not continue. "Wait! Wait" Stephen put his hand to his head. It felt confused. His face was of a deep purple. Bess thought that he would have a fit and blamed herself for having blurted out her suspicions. "Wait! Wait" muttered Marsh-Carr again as she moved towards the bell to summon assistance. He sat down on the sofa, his face in his hands, rocking himself to and fro. Then he heaved a deep sigh, and looked up at her white haggard face. "You will not tell Ida," he said. With her hands twisted in her hair Bess stepped back. She suppressed a shriek. "Stephen!" she cried hoarsely "You did not--you----" "I did not murder him. No," replied the young man harshly. "He was already dead when I fired those three shots." "Then it was you who?--" "It was I," cried Stephen, rising to his feet with a fierce look, "and you are going to denounce me, I suppose!" "No! No! how can you think I would do such a thing? But Ida, poor Ida!" "You must not tell her," cried Stephen grasping her wrist until she winced with the pain. "Do what you like, but say nothing to Ida. I would rather break off our engagement on another plea than that she should know." The pain of the twist he gave her arm brought Bess back to a more normal state of mind. She pulled herself together, and sat down. "Stephen," she said slowly, "no one but you and I will share this secret. Can you swear to me that Colonel Carr was already dead when you fired those shots? I want the truth!" "He was already dead," said Marsh-Carr sitting down quietly, "did you not hear the medical evidence at the inquest? It was the bullet which killed him. My shots were fired at a carcase."