d confronted the two men who were
awaiting him. He glanced from one to the other of their attentive faces,
and said abruptly:

"Hazel Rath is innocent."

"I was certain of it." Philip Heredith's hand came down emphatically on
the table in front of him as he made this declaration. "I knew it all
along," he added in additional emphasis.

"This is an amazing piece of news, Mr. Colwyn," said Musard, turning
earnestly to the detective. "Who, then--"

Colwyn made a detaining gesture.

"Wait," he said. "I cannot tell you that just yet." He turned to Phil,
whose dark eyes were fixed on his face. "It was you who asked me to try
and solve the mystery of your wife's death. It is to you that my
explanation is due. Shall I speak freely in Mr. Musard's presence, or
would you rather hear me alone?"

"I can go to the smoking-room," said Musard, rising as he spoke.

But Phil waved him to his seat again.

"No, no, Musard, stay where you are. There is no reason why you should
not hear what Mr. Colwyn has to say. Your advice may be needed," he
added as an afterthought.

"So be it," said Colwyn. "Then I had better commence by informing you
that Hazel Rath has broken her silence. She has made a statement to the
police, which, whilst affirming her innocence, does very little to clear
up the murder. Her story, briefly, is that she went up to the left wing
about half-past seven, noticed that Mrs. Heredith's room was in
darkness, and went in under the impression that she might be ill and in
need of assistance. She groped her way across the room to turn on the
light, and she had reached the head of the bed and was feeling for the
switch when a hand clutched her throat. She screamed wildly, and the
hand fell away. A moment afterwards the report of a shot filled the
room. She found the electric switch, and turned on the light. The first
thing she saw was a revolver--Nepcote's revolver--lying at her feet near
the head of the bed. Then her eyes turned to the bed, and she saw Mrs.
Heredith, bleeding from the mouth and nose. While she was attempting to
render her some assistance she heard footsteps on the stairs, and
thought of her own safety. She switched off the light and ran out,
carrying the revolver and the handkerchief with which she had been
wiping the blood from the dying woman's lips. She was just in time to
conceal herself behind the curtains in the corridor and escape the
observation of those who were rushing upstairs. There she s