Bawdsey nodded. "I know. Fair to the world and black to the heart." "As a boy I discovered the cupboard," replied Brendon, not taking notice of this interruption, "and I am ashamed to say that I sometimes made use of it in my teens to go to the theater unbeknown to my grandfather. On that night I used it again, and went to the sitting-room of Mrs. Jersey. It was about twelve o'clock. The door of the room was closed. I opened it, and saw her sitting at the table, dead, as she was discovered in the morning. In stooping over her to see if she still breathed, the berry must have fallen. It says a great deal for Train's acuteness that he suspected me on such evidence. I now see why he was so different to me when we parted, and why he has been so stiff of late." "What did you do after you found that the woman was dead?" "I returned to my bedroom and said nothing about it. You see, since I wanted something from Mrs. Jersey, and that desire might have come out in the evidence, there was every chance that I would be accused of having murdered her. There was certainly motive enough." "I don't agree with you," replied Bawdsey; "however, I quite understand that under the circumstances you lost your nerve. You returned to your room, and expressed suitable surprise the next morning." George nodded. "Quite so; and then Train's having locked this door made me think that all was safe. Had he not told----" "Oh, he has told very little," rejoined Bawdsey. "After all, nothing can be done if I hold my tongue." "Nothing will be done in any case," said George, grimly, "but I thank you for warning me, Mr. Bawdsey. What are your plans?" "I have none at present. Lord Derrington asked me to watch you." "That you certainly have done, and if you choose you can go on watching me. But why do you stop in this house?" "Oh, I knew Mrs. Jersey some years ago, and returned here for old times' sake." George shrugged his shoulders. He felt convinced that Bawdsey was not speaking openly. But then Brendon, on his part, had held something back. Neither man was sufficiently sure of the other to be perfectly frank. But the main thing was that Bawdsey, being friendly, was content to let matters stand as they were. That is, so far as regarded George himself, for Brendon felt that the detective's presence in that house had something to do with the murder. He rose to go. "Well, how do we stand?" asked Bawdsey. "Much as we did before," replied George, "save that I know you will hold your tongue and not get me into trouble." "I shall certainly do that. But remember Mrs. Ward." "Lord Derrington can stop her mouth." "Ah, but will he?" asked Bawdsey, dubiously. "I shall call on Lord Derrington and see," answered Brendon, and with a nod left the room. "He's a plucked 'un," said Bawdsey. CHAPTER XII A FIRESIDE TYRANT