Here the detective turned with great earnestness toward the two officials.

“This question of time has been, as I have repeatedly said, the greatest stumbling-block we have encountered in our consideration of this crime.  How could the assassin, by any means possible, have got so far away from the pedestal, in the infinitesimal lapse of time between the cry that was heard and the quick alarm which followed.  Now we know.  Have you anything to say against this conclusion?  Any other explanation to give which will account for every fact as this does?”

His answer came in a dubious gesture from the District Attorney and a half-hearted “No” from his Assistant.  They were both either too awed by the circumstance or too fearful of mistake, to accept without a struggle an accusation of this grave and momentous character against one of Mr. Roberts’ stamp and consequence.

This was no more than Mr. Gryce had expected, and while he realized that his reputation as a detective of extraordinary insight in cases of an unusually baffling nature trembled in the balance, he experienced a sudden distaste of his work which almost drove him into renouncing the whole affair.  But the habits of a lifetime are not parted with so easily; and when the Chief Inspector observed—­evidently with the idea of goading him on—­“This seems to be mainly a matter of conjecture, Gryce,” his old self reasserted itself, and he answered boldly: 

“I acknowledge that; but conjecture is what in nine cases out of ten smoothes out many of our difficulties.  I have here a short statement made by myself, after the most careful inquiries, of all that Mrs. Taylor and the untrapped director did and said in the few difficult moments when they met face to face over the body of his unfortunate victim.  I will ask you to listen to a portion of it.

“’She had not moved.  After her one cry of horror which had brought a rush of witnesses upon the scene, she remained fixed on her knees in the absorbed introspection common to those brought suddenly face to face with a life and death crisis.  He, finding that his own safety demanded action suitable to his position as a director, had entered with the crowd and now stood in her presence, in face of his own diabolical work, in an attitude of cold courage such as certain strong natures are able to assume under the pressure of great emergencies.

“’So long as she was deaf to all appeal to rouse and explain the situation, he stood back, watchful and silent; but when she finally roused and showed a disposition to speak, his desperation drove him into questioning her in order to see how much she understood of an attack which had killed a harmless stranger and let herself go free.

“’He asked her first if she could tell them from which direction came the arrow which ended this young girl’s life.

“’She made no reply in words; but glanced significantly at the opposite gallery.