“You assume this to have been the case, Afy, as others have assumed it.  I do not think that it was Richard Hare who killed your father.”

“Not Richard Hare!” exclaimed Afy, after a pause.  “Then who do you think did it, sir—­I?”

“Nonsense, Afy.”

“I know he did it,” proceeded Afy.  “It is true that I did not see it done, but I know it for all that.  I know it, sir.”

“You cannot know it, Afy.”

“I do know it, sir; I would not assert it to you if I did not.  If Richard Hare was here, present before us, and swore until he was black in the face that it was not him, I could convict him.”

“By what means?”

“I had rather not say, sir.  But you may believe me, for I am speaking truth.”

“There was another friend of yours present that evening, Afy.  Lieutenant Thorn.”

Afy’s face turned crimson; she was evidently surprised.  But Mr. Carlyle’s speech and manner were authoritative, and she saw it would be useless to attempt to trifle with him.

“I know he was, sir.  A young chap who used to ride over some evenings to see me.  He had nothing to do with what occurred.”

“Where did he ride from?”

“He was stopping with some friends at Swainson.  He was nobody, sir.”

“What was his name?” questioned Mr. Carlyle.

“Thorn,” said Afy.

“I mean his real name.  Thorn was an assumed name.”

“Oh, dear no,” returned Afy.  “Thorn was his name.”

Mr. Carlyle paused and looked at her.

“Afy, I have reason to believe that Thorn was only an assumed name.  Now, I have a motive for wishing to know his real one, and you would very much oblige me by confiding it to me.  What was it?”

“I don’t know that he had any other name, sir; I am sure he had no other,” persisted Afy.  “He was Lieutenant Thorn, then and he was Captain Thorn, afterward.”

“You have seen him since?”

“Once in a way we have met.”

“Where is he now?”

“Now!  Oh, my goodness, I don’t know anything about him now,” muttered Afy.  “I have not heard of him or seen him for a long while.  I think I heard something about his going to India with his regiment.”

“What regiment is he in?”

“I’m sure I don’t know about that,” said Afy.  “Is not one regiment the same as another; they are all in the army, aren’t they, sir?”

“Afy, I must find this Captain Thorn.  Do you know anything of his family?”

Afy shook her head.  “I don’t think he had any.  I never heard him mention as much as a brother or a sister.”

“And you persist in saying his name was Thorn?”

“I persist in saying it because it was his name.  I am positive it was his name.”

“Afy, shall I tell you why I want to find him; I believe it was he who murdered your father, not Richard Hare.”

Afy’s mouth and eyes gradually opened, and her face turned hot and cold alternately.  Then passion mastered her, and she burst forth.