bassett was prepared for what he had to tell. during the long wait for the officers of the law his mind had been ranging over it, shaking bare from unnecessary detail the chain of events that had ended in murder. it was impossible to conceal the situation between sybil and the stokeses; he could not if he had wished it and he did not wish it. a girl had been brutally done to death, a girl innocent of any evil intention, and his desire to bring her murderer to justice was as strong as either williams’ or rawson’s. and they could get the facts better from him than from the muddled stories of the others, their minds clouded by prejudice and hearsay. he hoped that what he said would be coldly unbiased, the naked truth as he knew it. that his revelations would involve a woman whom he liked and pitied would not induce [pg 132]him to withhold what ought to be known. chivalry had no place in this grim drama. as he had discharged his duties as director of a theatrical company rent by passions and dissensions, he now prepared to discharge them as the most responsible and fair-minded member of the group.

sitting by the desk in the library he unveiled the situation, what he had heard, seen and knew. the men gave an unwinking attention, now and then stopping him to plant a question. the trend of williams’ thoughts was soon revealed—he suspected flora stokes. when the matter was threshed out he came to an open admission with the remark:

“well, you have only one person here who had the provocation necessary to commit murder.”

bassett made no answer. if his duty required him to tell all he knew, it did not require him to give his own opinions.

rawson who was smoking, his long, loose-jointed frame slouched down in an armchair, took his cigar from his mouth:

[pg 133]

“of course the woman’s the first person you’d think of. she had the necessary provocation and the state of mind. but the way she came in and told them—as mr. bassett describes it—doesn’t look to me like a guilty person.”

“why not?”

“sounds too genuine, too like real excitement.”

“don’t you think it’s natural to get excited if you’ve killed some one?”

“yes, but not just that way.”

williams leaned over the arm of his chair:

“you got to remember something about these people, rawson—and it counts big—they’re all actors.”

bassett spoke up quickly:

“no, she wasn’t acting. you’d have known that if you’d seen her. what she did was natural—a woman suffering from a fearful shock.”

“couldn’t an actor put that on?”

“yes, some could, but i’m certain she wasn’t.”

“when stokes came into the room after the shot,” said rawson, “how did he behave?”

[pg 134]

“he seemed all right. but i can’t honestly say that i noticed him much. the light was fading and i was so irritated by the thought that some one had been shooting that i didn’t pay any attention to him.”

“oh, rubbish!” williams made a rolling motion in the scoop of the big chair. “you can’t suspect the man; he was in love with her. he didn’t want to kill her, he wanted to keep her alive.”

“men do kill the women they love, especially when they can’t get her.”

“yes, they do. i’ve known of such cases. but that’s impulse. this was premeditated.” the sheriff pointed at the revolver lying on the desk. “sometime to-day somebody located that gun, took it for a purpose—not to shoot sea-gulls as you thought, mr. bassett.”

rawson looked at the pistol:

“premeditation, all right. was there anybody in the outfit who didn’t know you’d opened that drawer and found the revolver gone?”

[pg 135]

bassett considered:

“stokes didn’t know. he came in after i’d shut the drawer. i didn’t speak of it because just as i’d got through asking him if he’d seen any one, we heard mrs. stokes’ scream.”

“and she didn’t, of course,” commented williams.

“while you were running round at the point the house was empty?”

“i think mrs. stokes was here all the time. i never saw her outside.”

“any of the others come up?”

“i’m not certain of all of them. i know shine did; i sent him back to phone over to hayworth for the boats. and stokes did, he came up for the electric torch when i was in here telephoning to you.”

“then neither of them knew the loss of the revolver had been discovered and they had plenty of opportunity to return it to the desk?”

bassett nodded, and after a minute’s cogitation rawson went on:

[pg 136]

“doesn’t it seem odd to you that no one saw miss saunders when she came back to the house?”

“no. they were all in their rooms, except shine who was down at the point and mrs. stokes who was reading on the balcony. i asked her particularly if she’d noticed sybil pass and she said no, she’d been interested in her book and wouldn’t have noticed anybody.”

“i’d give a good deal to know what miss saunders did in that time. i think it would let in some light.”

“how so?”

rawson narrowed his eyes in contemplation of an unfolding line of thought:

“well, what took her out again to the point after she’d come in? she hadn’t a good deal of time and she wanted to change her clothes before supper. it looks to me as if she met some one in the house, some one who wanted her to go down there with them.”

“mrs. cornell says she was alone.”

“she might have started alone and gone to meet them.”

[pg 137]

“then it couldn’t have been stokes,” said williams, “for mr. bassett says she wouldn’t speak to him if she could help it.”

“that’s right,” bassett nodded in agreement. “she’d never have made a date with him. she shunned him like the plague. if you knew her you wouldn’t see anything in that going out. she was restless and unhappy and the place here—the sea, the views—fascinated her. it was our last evening and it was like her not to want to miss any of it, slip out for a minute to enjoy the end of it.”

“and came upon some one waiting for her—lying in wait and——”

rawson did not finish. a thud and crackling crash came from the living-room. the three men rose with a simultaneous leap and ran for the door.