George nodded. "The confession was written. I learned that much from Margery. Mrs. Jersey told her it was a story. Well, as the confession was not found among Mrs. Jersey's papers when she died, it must have been taken by someone. But I can't think what interest such a thing can have had for any one unless----" "Unless what, Mr. Brendon?" "Unless it contained the name of the person who assassinated my father." "How could Mrs. Jersey know that?" "She was at San Remo when my father was killed; she loved him and she used to follow him. How I learned these things, Bawdsey, does not matter. But it is just possible that Mrs. Jersey--or Eliza Stokes as she was then--might have some knowledge of who committed the crime. If that was set down in her confession (as is highly probable), I can quite understand that the original assassin killed her to gain a dangerous document such as it undoubtedly was." "Then you think that the assassin of your father was also the assassin of Mrs. Jersey?" "I fancy so, as I can explain the disappearance of the confession in no other way. And if I remember rightly, Bawdsey, it was you who said that the San Remo crime was connected with the one committed in this house." "I did say so," replied Bawdsey, thoughtfully. He pondered for a few minutes and then looked up briskly. "Well, Mr. Brendon, that point cannot be settled without proof, and there is no use our wasting time in indulging in vain speculations. Let me tell you about the night I went to see Mrs. Jersey." "Go on," said Brendon, crossing his legs. "I am all attention." "I knew before your grandfather came to see me that you were about to pass the night here. Lola told me." "Yes, I was foolish enough to tell her; though, to be sure, I had no great reason to conceal my visit to Train. I never knew that a murder would take place. So Lola told you?" Bawdsey nodded. "She did. But I never intended to bother about the matter, as I did not think there was anything in your visit. But Lord Derrington came and put a different complexion on the affair. It was his belief that you intended to force Mrs. Jersey into confessing about the marriage." "I came to appeal to her," said Brendon, dryly. "There was no thought of forcing in my mind." "Lord Derrington judged you by himself and thought there might be. I rather agreed with him. Then, knowing his temper, I fancied if he went to see Mrs. Jersey there would be a row and a scandal, and I did not want that to happen. I was making a very good thing out of Lord Derrington," admitted Bawdsey, frankly, "and if a scandal had taken place my occupation would have been gone. I therefore determined to drug him and to go myself." "But why in his coat?" "I thought that Mrs. Jersey might not admit me." George pounced upon him at once. "There was no need that she should do so. You took the latch-key my grandfather carried." "Oh, you know that, do you?" said Bawdsey, composedly. "Then I may as well be absolutely frank."