“Then make it ‘people’ by all means, Sergeant.”

“We were speaking of ‘someone,’ sir.”

“Quite right.  Someone, be it!”

“Did it ever strike you, sir, that on each of the three separate occasions where outrage was effected, or attempted, there was one person who was the first to be present and to give the alarm?”

“Let me see!  Miss Trelawny, I believe, gave the alarm on the first occasion.  I was present myself, if fast asleep, on the second; and so was Nurse Kennedy.  When I woke there were several people in the room; you were one of them.  I understand that on that occasion also Miss Trelawny was before you.  At the last attempt I was Miss Trelawny fainted.  I carried her out and went back.  In returning, I was first; and I think you were close behind me.”

Sergeant Daw thought for a moment before replying: 

“She was present, or first, in the room on all the occasions; there was only damage done in the first and second!”

The inference was one which I, as a lawyer, could not mistake.  I thought the best thing to do was to meet it half-way.  I have always found that the best way to encounter an inference is to cause it to be turned into a statement.

“You mean,” I said, “that as on the only occasions when actual harm was done, Miss Trelawny’s being the first to discover it is a proof that she did it; or was in some way connected with the attempt, as well as the discovery?”

“I didn’t venture to put it as clear as that; but that is where the doubt which I had leads.”  Sergeant Daw was a man of courage; he evidently did not shrink from any conclusion of his reasoning on facts.

We were both silent for a while.  Fears began crowding in on my own mind.  Not doubts of Miss Trelawny, or of any act of hers; but fears lest such acts should be misunderstood.  There was evidently a mystery somewhere; and if no solution to it could be found, the doubt would be cast on someone.  In such cases the guesses of the majority are bound to follow the line of least resistance; and if it could be proved that any personal gain to anyone could follow Mr. Trelawny’s death, should such ensue, it might prove a difficult task for anyone to prove innocence in the face of suspicious facts.  I found myself instinctively taking that deferential course which, until the plan of battle of the prosecution is unfolded, is so safe an attitude for the defence.  It would never do for me, at this stage, to combat any theories which a detective might form.  I could best help Miss Trelawny by listening and understanding.  When the time should come for the dissipation and obliteration of the theories, I should be quite willing to use all my militant ardour, and all the weapons at my command.

“You will of course do your duty, I know,” I said, “and without fear.  What course do you intend to take?”