ing, sir," the maid answered stolidly. "I am
answering questions."

She was lying, of course! Hillyard had not a doubt of it. Jenny Prask
was the malevolent force of which he was in search. So much had, at all
events, sprung clear from Sir Chichester's blunderings. And some hint,
too, of the plan which malevolence had formed--not more than a hint!
That Jenny Prask intended to sustain a charge of murder Martin did not
believe. She was of too strong a brain for that folly. But she had some
clear purpose to harm somebody; and Martin's heart sank as he
conjectured who that some one might, nay must, be. Meanwhile, he
thought, let Sir Chichester pursue his questioning. He got glimpses
through that clouded medium into Jenny Prask's mind.

"You must realise, Jenny, the unfortunate position into which your
answers are leading you," said Sir Chichester with a trace of bluster.

Hillyard could have laughed. As if she didn't realise exactly the drift
and meaning of every word which she uttered. Jenny was not at all
perturbed by Sir Chichester's manner. Her face took on a puzzled look.

"I don't understand, sir."

"No? Let me make it clear! If your mistress never took drugs, if she did
not place the glass of chloroform in the particular position which would
ensure her death, then, since you, her maid, were alone in this part of
the house with her and were the last person to see her alive----"

"No, sir," Jenny Prask interrupted.

Sir Chichester stared. He was more and more out of his depth, and these
were waters in which expert swimming was required.

"I don't understand. Do you say that somebody saw Mrs. Croyle after she
had dismissed you for the night?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you please explain?"

The explanation was as simple as possible. Jenny had first fetched a
book for her mistress from the library, before the house-party left for
the ball. She then had supper and went to Mrs. Croyle's room. It was
then about half-past nine, so far as she could conjecture. Her mistress,
however, was not ready for bed, and dismissed Jenny, saying that she
would look after herself. Jenny thereupon retired to her own bedroom and
wrote a letter. After writing it, she remembered that she had not put
out the distilled water which Mrs. Croyle was in the habit of using for
her toilet. She accordingly returned to Mrs. Croyle's bedroom, and to
her surprise found it empty. She waited for a quarter of an hour, and
then becoming uneasy, went dow