“I am so sorry, Willy.  I had no suspicion it was you.  Why did you not confide in me?”

The invalid shook his head.  “There might have been danger in it.”

“Never from me,” was the emphatic answer.

“Ah, my lord, you don’t know.  I haven’t dared to make myself known to a soul.  Mr. Hillary found it out, and I couldn’t help myself.”

Lord Hartledon glanced round at the strange place:  the rafters, the rude walls.  A fire was burning on the hearth, and the appliances brought to bear were more comfortable than might have been imagined; but still—­

“Surely you will allow yourself to be removed to a better place, Willy?” he said.

“Call me Pike,” came the feverish interruption.  “Never that other name again, my lord; I’ve done with it for ever.  As to a better place—­I shall have that soon enough.”

“You wanted to say something to me, Mr. Hillary said.”

“I’ve wanted to say it some time now, and to beg your lordship’s pardon.  It’s about the late earl’s death.”

“My brother’s?”

“Yes.  I was on the wrong scent a long time.  And I can tell you what nobody else will.”

Lord Hartledon lifted his head quickly; thoughts were crowding impulsively into his mind, and he spoke in the moment’s haste.

“Surely you had not anything to do with that!”

“No; but I thought your lordship had.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lord Hartledon, quietly.

“It’s for my foolish and wicked and mistaken thought that I would crave pardon before I go.  I thought your lordship had killed the late lord, either by accident or maliciously.”

“You must be dreaming, Pike!”

“No; but I was no better than dreaming then.  I had been living amidst lawless scenes, over the seas and on the seas, where a life’s not of much account, and the fancy was easy enough.  I happened to overhear a quarrel between you and the earl just before his death; I saw you going towards the spot at the time the accident happened, as you may remember—­”

“I did not go so far,” interrupted Hartledon, wondering still whether this might not be the wanderings of a dying man.  “I turned back into the trees at once, and walked slowly home.  Many a time have I wished I had gone on!”

“Yes, yes; I was on the wrong scent.  And there was that blow on his temple to keep up the error, which I know now must have been done against the estrade.  I did suspect at the time, and your lordship will perhaps not forgive me for it.  I let drop a word that I suspected something before that man Gorton, and he asked me what I meant; and I explained it away, and said I was chaffing him.  And I have been all this time, up to a few weeks ago, learning the true particulars of how his lordship died.”

Lord Hartledon decided that the man’s mind was undoubtedly wandering.