“It wasn’t a crime,” protested Silver; “but only a way to get money.  By going up to London you certainly delayed what we intended to do, since we could not carry out our plan until you returned.  You did for one night, as Chaldea, who was on the watch for you, told us, and then we acted.”

“Did Chaldea know of the trap?”

“No!  She knew nothing save that I”—­it was Silver who spoke—­“wanted to know about your return.  She found the letter in Pine’s tent, and really believed that Lady Agnes had written it, and that you had shot Pine.  It was to force you by threats to marry her that she gave the letter to me.”

“And she instructed you to show it to the police,” said Lambert between his teeth, “whereas you tried to blackmail Lady Agnes.”

“I had to make my money somehow,” said Silver insolently.  “Pine was dead and Lady Agnes had the coin.”

“You were to share in the twenty-five thousand pounds, I suppose?” Lambert asked his cousin indignantly.

“No; Silver blackmailed on his own.  I hoped to get money from Agnes in another way—­as her hard-up brother that is.  And if—­”

“Oh, shut up!  You make me sick,” interrupted Lambert, suppressing a strong desire to choke his cousin.  “You are as bad as Silver.”

“And Silver is as innocent as Lord Garvington,” struck in that gentleman, whose face was recovering its natural color.

Lambert turned on him sharply.  “I don’t agree with that.  You shot Pine!”

Silver sprang up with a hysterical cry.  He had judged like Agag that the bitterness of death was past, but found that he was not yet safe.  “I did not shoot Pine,” he declared, wringing his hands.  “Oh, why can’t you believe me.”

“Because Garvington gave you the second revolver and with that—­on the evidence of the bullet—­Pine was murdered.”

“That might be so, but—­but—­” Silver hesitated, and shivered and looked round with a hunted expression in his eyes.

“But what?  You may as well explain to me.”

“I shan’t—­I refuse to.  I am innocent!  You can’t hurt me!”

Lambert brushed aside this puny rage.  “Inspector Darby can.  I shall go to Wanbury this evening and tell him all.”

“No; don’t do that!” cried Garvington, greatly agitated.  “Think of me—­think of the family!”

“I think of Justice!  You two beasts aren’t fit to be at large.  I’m off,” and he made for the door.

In a moment Silver was clutching his coat.  “No, don’t!” he screamed.  “I am innocent!  Lord Garvington, say that I am innocent!”

“Oh, ——­ you, get out of the hole as best you can!  I’m in as big a mess as you are, unless Lambert acts decently.”

“Decently, you wicked little devil,” said Lambert scornfully.  “I only propose to do what any decent man would do.  You trapped Pine by means of the letter, and Silver shot him.”

“I didn’t!  I didn’t!”

“You had the revolver!”