“You know Mr. Swain cut his wrist as he came over the wall that night?”

“Yes, he told me.  He didn’t know it was bleeding, at first; then he felt the blood on his hand, and I wrapped his wrist in my handkerchief.”

“Was it this handkerchief?” asked Goldberger, and took from his pocket the blood-stained square and handed it to her.

She took it with a little shiver, looked at it, and passed it back to him.

“Yes,” she said; “that is it.”

Then she sat upright, her clenched hands against her breast, staring at us with starting eyes.

“I remember now!” she gasped.  “I remember now!  I saw it—­a blotch of red—­lying on the floor beside my father’s chair!  How did it get there, Mr. Lester?  Had he been there?  Did he follow us?” She stopped again, as she saw the look in Goldberger’s eyes, and then the look in mine.  With a long, indrawn breath of horror, she cowered back into the chair, shaking from head to foot.  “Oh, what have I done!” she moaned.  “What have I done?”

There could be no question as to what she had done, I told myself, bitterly:  she had added another link to the chain of evidence about her lover.  I could see the same thought in the sardonic gaze which Goldberger turned upon me; but before either of us could say a word, the doctor, with a peremptory gesture, had driven us from the room.

CHAPTER XVII

THE VERDICT

Goldberger paused at the stair-head and looked at me, an ironical light in his eyes.  I knew he suspected that Miss Vaughan’s story of the handkerchief was no great surprise to me.

“Well,” he asked, “will you wish to put her on the stand?”

I shook my head and started down the stairs, for I was far from desiring an argument just then, but he stopped me with a hand upon the sleeve.

“You realise, Mr. Lester,” he said, more seriously, “that it is plainly my duty to cause Swain’s arrest?”

“Yes,” I assented.  “I realise that.  Under the circumstances, you can do nothing else.”

He nodded, and we went downstairs together.  I saw Swain’s eager eyes upon us as we came out upon the lawn, and his lips were at my ear the instant I had taken my seat.

“Well?” he whispered.

“She cannot help you,” I said.  I did not think it necessary to say how deeply she would hurt him when her testimony was called for in open court, as, of course, it would be.

“And you won’t put her on the stand?”

“No,” I answered, and he sank back with a sigh of relief.  Then something in my face seemed to catch his eye, for he leaned forward again.  “You don’t mean that she believes I did it!” he demanded hoarsely.

“Oh, no,” I hastened to assure him; “she says such an accusation is absurd; she was greatly overcome when she learned that you were even suspected; she said....”

But the coroner rapped for order.