"Sir," he uttered, with emotion,
"you cannot suspect _me_ of having had act or part in it! I declare,
before Heaven, that Rachel was as sacred for me--"

"Softly, Lionel," interrupted Mr. Verner, "there's no cause for you to
break your head against a wheel. It is not you whom I suspect--thank
God! But I wish to be sure of your movements--to be able to speak of
them as sure, you understand--before I accuse another."

"I will willingly tell you every movement of mine that evening, so far
as I remember," said Lionel, resuming his calmness. "I came home when
dinner was half over. I had been detained--but you know all that," he
broke off. "When you left the dining-room, I went on to the terrace, and
sat there smoking a cigar. I should think I stayed there an hour, or
more; and then I went upstairs, changed my coat, and proceeded to Mr.
Bitterworth's."

"What took you to Mr. Bitterworth's that evening, Lionel?"

Lionel hesitated. He did not choose to say, "Because I knew Sibylla West
was to be there;" but that would have been the true answer. "I had
nothing particular to do with my evening, so I went up," he said aloud.
"Mr. Bitterworth was out. Mrs. Bitterworth thought he had gone into
Deerham."

"Yes. He was at Deerham when the alarm was given, and hastened on here.
Sibylla West was there, was she not?"

"She was there," said Lionel. "She had promised to be home early; and,
as no one came for her, I saw her home. It was after I left her that I
heard what had occurred."

"About what time did you get there--I mean to Bitterworth's?" questioned
Mr. Verner, who appeared to have his thoughts filled with other things
at that moment than with Sibylla West.

"I cannot be sure," replied Lionel. "I think it must have been nine
o'clock. I went into Deerham to the post-office, and then came back to
Bitterworth's."

Mr. Verner mused.

"Lionel," he observed, "it is a curious thing, but there's not one of
you but might have been the party to the quarrel that night; so, far as
that your time cannot be positively accounted for by minutes and by
hours. I mean, were the accusation brought publicly against you, you
would, none of you, be able to prove a distinct _alibi_, as it seems to
me. For instance, who is to prove that you did not, when you were
sitting on the terrace, steal across to a rendezvous at the Willow Pond,
or cut across to it when you were at the post-office at Deerham?"

"I certainly did _not_," said Lionel quiet