“He already has, as you will remember, the arrow hidden somewhere about his person, and it is only a few steps to the edge of the tapestry behind which he has secreted the bow.  If he takes a look opposite, it is at the moment when both Mrs. Taylor and Miss Willetts are screened from his view by one of the partitions separating the various sections.  For unless he felt the way to be free for his arrow, he would never have proceeded to slip behind his chosen pedestal, secure the bow, pause to string it, then crouch for his aim in such apparent confidence.  For after he has left the open gallery and limited his outlook to what is visible beyond the loophole through which he intends to shoot, he can see—­as we know from Mr. La Fleche—­little more than the spot where the cap hangs and the one narrow line between.  Unhappily, it was across this line the young girl leaped just as the arrow left the bow.  Don’t you see it, sir?  I do; and I see what follows, too.”

“The escape of X?”

“Yes.  Inadvertently, as you see, he has committed a horrible crime; he can never recall it.  Whatever his remorse or shame, nothing will ever restore the victim of his folly to life, while he himself has many days before him—­days which would be ruined if his part in this tragedy were known.  Shall he confess to it, then, or shall he fly (the way is so easy), and leave it to fate to play his game—­fate, whose well-known kindness to fools would surely favor him?  It does not take long for such thoughts to pass through a man’s head, and before the dying cry of his innocent victim had ceased to echo through those galleries, he is behind the tapestry and on his way toward the court.  Beyond that, my dream does not go.  How about yours, sir?”

“My dream was of a crime, not of an accident.  No man could be such a fool as you have made out this X of yours to be.  Only an extraordinary purpose or some imperious necessity could drive a man to shoot an arrow across an open court where people were passing hither and yon, even if he didn’t see anyone in the gallery.”

“By which you mean——­”

“That he had already marked the approach of his victim and was ready with his weapon.”

“You are undoubtedly right, and I only wish to say this:  that the purpose in my relation was merely to show the method and manner of this shooting, leaving you to put on the emphasis of crime if you saw fit.”

The gravity with which Mr. Gryce received this suggestion had the effect of slightly embarrassing Sweetwater.  Yet he presently ventured to add after a moment of respectful waiting: 

“Did you know that after I woke from my dream I had a moment’s doubt as to its accuracy on one point?  The bow was undoubtedly flung behind the curtain, but the man——­”

He paused abruptly.  A morsel of clean white paper had just been pushed across the table under his eyes, and a peremptory voice was saying: