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Updated: June 13, 2025
"When I came back from the Soudan twelve years ago, I had been instrumental in killing some thousands of brave men, I dare say I had killed a score or so with my own hand. Was I a murderer then?" "No!" Wrayson answered. "It was a different thing." "Then killing is not necessarily murder," the Colonel remarked. "Good! Now take the case of a man like Morris Barnes.
"I think that if I can remember it," she continued, "I can tell you the name of the solicitor whom he employed." The young man dashed his fist upon the table. He was pale almost to the lips. "By God! you must remember it," he cried. "Don't say you've forgotten. It's most important. Two thousand a year! pounds! Think!" She turned towards Wrayson.
They spoke of this divorce case which has lasted so long; they spoke of it as about to be finally decided. There was some fresh evidence about to be produced, a special court was to be held." Madame de Melbain turned, if possible, a shade paler. "Yes!" she said slowly, "I have heard of that. We have all heard of that. I want to tell you, Mr. Wrayson, what that fresh evidence consists of."
What I can't quite understand, old chap, is why you have worked yourself up into such a shocking state. You don't stand any chance of being hanged, that I can see!" Wrayson laughed a little shamefacedly. "To tell you the truth," he said, "I am beginning to feel ashamed of myself. I think it was the sense of being spied upon, and being alone in this room which got a bit on my nerves.
She and the Baroness were schoolfellows in Brussels. There is no mystery about their friendship at all." Heneage was thoughtful for several moments. "This is interesting," he said at last, "but it does not, of course, affect the situation." "You mean that you will go on just the same?" Wrayson demanded. "Certainly!
"One moment," he said, "I have something to say to you first." Duncan glanced at him a little anxiously. Wrayson answered the look. "Nothing disturbing," he said. "You learnt the end of everything from my letters?" "I think so," Duncan answered. "The verdict on your father's death was absolutely unanimous," Wrayson said.
"I'm afraid you don't come in," Wrayson answered; "but remember I am only following out a surmise. Have you looked through your brother's papers carefully?" "I've gone through 'em all," Mr. Sydney Barnes answered, "but, of course, I was looking for scrip or a memorandum of investments, or something of that sort.
"I cannot believe, either, that you would shield any one directly or indirectly connected with such a crime. I am going to ask you, therefore, to tell me what Miss Deveney was doing in these flats on that particular evening." Wrayson was silent. In the light of what he had just been told about the Baroness, he knew very well how Heneage would regard the truth.
The bar was crowded, but they found a quiet corner. Heneage ordered a large brandy and soda, and drunk half of it at a gulp. "How's every one?" Wrayson asked. "I haven't been in the club yet." "All right, I believe. I haven't been in myself for a week," Heneage answered. Wrayson looked at him in surprise. "Haven't been in the club for a week?" he repeated. "That's rather unusual, isn't it?"
Of course, she was innocent, innocent of the deed itself and of all knowledge of it. But Heneage did not know her; he would be hard to convince. So Wrayson shook his head. "I can tell you nothing," he said. "I admit frankly my sympathies are not with you. I should not say a word likely to bring even inconvenience upon Miss Deveney."
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