“Did you come by, the railway station path?”

“I did not.  I took a wide detour and arrived at the unfinished house on the side opposite to where Rose Cottage stood.”

“Ah!” murmured the young man.  “No wonder I missed you.  But I thought you were calling on Miss Loach.”

“I intended to, but first I thought I would assure myself about the ghosts.  Certainly I had set you to perform that task, but, as I was on the spot, I determined to see for myself.  I climbed the wall, not without difficulty, and found myself in the park—­”

“About what time was this?”

“After ten.  I can’t say how long.  But I really cannot be precise as to the time.  I wandered aimlessly about the park, threading my way amongst the trees and shrubs and undergrowth.  I was astonished to find paths, and it struck me that someone used the park.”

“I believe Miss Loach did—­that is, Emilia,” said Cuthbert.  “Jennings learned that in some way.  She always was on the watch for anyone coming into the park and learning the secret of the factory.”

“I did not know that at the time,” said Caranby, his voice growing weaker.  “Well, I walked about.  Sometimes it was moonlight and at other times the moon would be obscured by clouds.  I struggled to get near the house and succeeded.  Then I saw a man standing in the shadow.  At once I went up to him—­he fled.  I don’t know who it was?”

“I can tell you,” said Mallow, quietly, “young Saxon.”

“Then why did he fly?”

“He was there with no very good purpose and his conscience smote the miserable creature,” said Cuthbert, “go on—­or will you wait?”

“No! no! no!” said Caranby, vehemently; “if I stop now you will never know the truth.  I don’t want anyone else to be accused of the crime.  I know Maraquito hinted that Isabella Octagon was guilty, but she is not.  I don’t want even Isabella to suffer, though she has been a fatal woman to me and wrecked my life’s happiness.”

His voice was growing so weak that Yeo gave him more cordial.  After a pause Caranby resumed with a last effort, and very swiftly, as though he thought his strength would fail him before he reached the end of his dismal story.

“I followed the man, though I did not know who he was, and wondered why he should be trespassing.  He fled rapidly and I soon lost him.  But when the moonlight was bright I saw that he had dropped a knife from his pocket.  In stooping to pick it up I lost sight of the man.”

“Basil crossed the park and ran away.  But he came back for the knife afterwards,” explained Mallow.  “Juliet saw him.  He had on my coat.  I wonder you didn’t think Basil was me, as Juliet did.”

“I am not acquainted with your clothes,” said Caranby, dryly, “as I have been absent from England for so long.  But no wonder Saxon did not find the knife.  I picked it up.  It was a bowie—­”