“Crime is despicable when it results from cupidity only,” she went on, with a deliberateness so hard that the more susceptible of her auditors shuddered.  “But crime that springs from some imperative and overpowering necessity of the mind or body might well awaken sympathy, and I am not ashamed of having been sorry for this frenzied and suffering man.  Weak and impulsive as you may consider me, I did not want him to suffer on account of a moment’s madness, as he undoubtedly would if he were ever found with Agatha Webb’s money in his possession, so I plunged it deeper into the soil and trusted to the confusion which crime always awakens even in the strongest mind, for him not to discover its hiding-place till the danger connected with it was over.”

“Ha! wonderful!  Devilish subtle, eh?  Clever, too clever!” were some of the whispered exclamations which this curious explanation on her part brought out.  Yet only Sweetwater showed his open and entire disbelief of the story, the others possibly remembering that for such natures as hers there is no governing law and no commonplace interpretation.

To Sweetwater, however, this was but so much display of feminine resource and subtlety.  Though he felt he should keep still in the presence of men so greatly his superiors, he could not resist saying: 

“Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.  I should never have attributed any such motive as you mention to the young girl I saw leaving this spot with many a backward glance at the hole from which we afterwards extracted the large sum of money in question.  But say that this reburying of stolen funds was out of consideration for the feeble old man you describe as having carried them there, do you not see that by this act you can be held as an accessory after the fact?”

Her eyebrows went up and the delicate curve of her lips was not without menace as she said: 

“You hate me, Mr. Sweetwater.  Do you wish me to tell these gentlemen why?”

The flush which, notwithstanding this peculiar young man’s nerve, instantly crimsoned his features, was a surprise to Frederick.  So was it to the others, who saw in it a possible hint as to the real cause of his persistent pursuit of this young girl, which they had hitherto ascribed entirely to his love of justice.  Slighted love makes some hearts venomous.  Could this ungainly fellow have once loved and been disdained by this bewitching piece of unreliability?

It was a very possible assumption, though Sweetwater’s blush was the only answer he gave to her question, which nevertheless had amply served its turn.

To fill the gap caused by his silence, Mr. Sutherland made an effort and addressed her himself.

“Your conduct,” said he, “has not been that of a strictly honourable person.  Why did you fail to give the alarm when you re-entered my house after being witness to this double tragedy?”

Her serenity was not to be disturbed.