efer to arrest Nepcote first. We may get him at any moment, and
then, I hope, we shall find out where we stand in this case. But what do
you mean by saying that I have more to gain than lose by telling the
girl about him?"

"If she is keeping silent to shield Nepcote, she is likely to reveal the
truth when she knows that there is nothing more to be gained by silence.
She will then begin to think of herself. In my opinion, you have now an
excellent weapon in your hand to force her to speak."

"Can we go so far as to assume that she is keeping silence to shield
him? Let us assume that they went to Mrs. Heredith's room together for
the purpose of murder and robbery. The girl, we will suppose, fired the
shot and Nepcote escaped from the window with the necklace. Is Hazel
Rath likely to reveal such a story when she knows it will not save
herself?"

"Your assumptions carry you too far," returned Colwyn. "Our presumptive
knowledge does not take us that distance. Till Nepcote's share in the
case is explained it is useless indulging in speculations outside our
premises. Let us defer inferences until we have marshalled more facts.
We do not know whether more than one pair of eyes witnessed the murder
of Mrs. Heredith; the theory that Hazel Rath fired the shot is merely a
presumption of fact, and not an actual certainty. Much is still hidden
in this case, and the question is, can Hazel Rath enlighten us? As she
and Nepcote are now both implicated, it seems to me that the best
inducement to get her to speak is by letting her know that you have
arrested Nepcote. In my opinion, the experiment is well worth trying."

Merrington rose to his feet and paced across the room, pondering over
the proposal.

"I am inclined to believe you are right," he said. "At any rate, I shall
go down to Lewes to-morrow and put it to the test. I would ask you to
accompany me, but it would be a little irregular."

"I shall be content to learn the result," Colwyn answered.

CHAPTER XXIII

There are moments when the human brain refuses to receive communication
from its peripheries, and the rapidity of thought becomes so slow that
it can be measured by minutes. The stage of consciousness on which
life's drama is solitarily played for every human being is too
circumscribed to expand all at once for the reception of a strange and
unexpected image. Such moments follow in, the wake of a great shock,
like a black curtain descending on a lighted sce