“I spent the night there,” Trafford answered. “Was the night disturbed?” “An attempt was made to arrest a murderer, who escaped into the woods, but not without a severe wound, I think.” “I have a message for the man who attempted to make the arrest.” “You can deliver it to me,” said Trafford. “You say the man was a murderer. I have no wish to know his name; but I am charged only to speak to one man, and I shall know him by a name. You can give it me?” “If it’s my name you want, it’s Trafford. The murderer attempted first to rob or murder me in the covered bridge at Millbank, before he committed the actual murder,” answered the detective. “I did not doubt before,” the priest answered, with something of stateliness; “only when a trust is given, one must be certain. The message is that the man who was drowned was not murdered. It was an accident, in which the one barely escaped and was unable to save the other.” “Even so,” Trafford retorted, “the other might have had a chance to escape, if it hadn’t been for a broken collar-bone, and for that the man who denies the murder was responsible.” “But it was by mistake he inflicted it,” the priest answered. “By mistake, because he missed the man he intended to strike and hit his associate in crime. He was in the bridge to rob and probably to murder, and if the death of his companion was directly accidental, it came through a violation of the law and that makes it murder.” “In the eyes of the law, possibly,” the priest said; “but we look to the intent. The man did not intend to kill his associate. He died as the result of an accident.” “Are you permitted to give me details?” Trafford asked, wisely avoiding a discussion that might return again and again on itself without actual progress.