“Well, I don’t believe he’s guilty,” repeated Viner. “And I want to do something for him. You may think me quixotic, but I’d like to help him. Is there anything to prevent you from going to him, telling him that I’m convinced of his innocence and that I should like to get him help—legal help?”
“There’s nothing to prevent it, to be sure,” answered Drillford. “But Mr. Viner, you can’t get over the fact that this fellow had Ashton’s diamond ring in his possession!”
“How do I—how do you—know how he came into possession of it?” demanded Viner.
“And then—that knife!” exclaimed Drillford. “Look here! I’ve got it. What sort of thing is that for an innocent, harmless man to carry about him? It’s an American bowie-knife!”
He opened a drawer and exhibited a weapon which, lying on a pile of paper, looked singularly suggestive and fearsome.
“I don’t care!” said Viner with a certain amount of stubbornness. “I’m convinced that the man didn’t kill Ashton. And I want to help him. I’m a man of considerable means; and in this case—well, that’s how I feel about it.”
Drillford made no answer. But presently he left the room, after pointing Viner to a chair. Viner waited—five, ten minutes. Then the door opened again, and Drillford came back. Behind him walked the accused man, with a couple of policemen in attendance upon him.
“There, Mr. Viner!” said Drillford. “You can speak to him yourself!”
Viner rose from his chair. The prisoner stepped forward, regarding him earnestly.
“Viner!” he said, in a low, concentrated tone, “don’t you know me? I’m Langton Hyde! You and I were at Rugby together. And—we meet again, here!”
V
Look for That Man!
At these words Viner drew back with an exclamation of astonishment, but in the next instant he stepped forward again, holding out his hand.
“Hyde!” he said. “Then—that’s what I remembered! Of course I know you! But good heavens, man, what does all this mean? What’s brought you to this—to be here, in this place?”
The prisoner looked round at his captors, and back at Viner, and smiled as a man smiles who is beginning to realize hopelessness to the full.
“I don’t know if I’m allowed to speak,” he said.
Drillford, who had been watching this episode with keen attention, motioned to the two policemen.
“Wait outside,” he said abruptly. “Now, then,” he continued when he, Viner and Hyde were alone, “this man can say anything he likes to you, Mr. Viner, so long as you’ve asked to see him. This is all irregular, but I’ve no wish to stop him from telling you whatever he pleases. But remember,” he went on, glancing at the prisoner, “you’re saying it before me—and in my opinion, you’d a deal better have said something when you were in court just now.”
“I didn’t know what to say,” replied Hyde doubtfully. “I’m pretty much on the rocks, as you can guess; but—I have relatives! And if it’s possible, I don’t want them to know about this.”
Drillford looked at Viner and shook his head, as if to signify his contempt of Hyde’s attitude.
“Considering the position you’re in,” he said, turning again to Hyde, “you must see that it’s impossible that your relations should be kept from knowing. You’ll have to give particulars about yourself, sooner or later. And charges of murder, like this, can’t be kept out of the newspapers.”
“Tell me, Hyde!” exclaimed Viner. “Look here, now, to begin with—you didn’t kill this man?”
Hyde shook his head in a puzzled fashion—something was evidently causing him surprise.
“I didn’t know the man was killed, or dead, until they brought me here, from that pawnbroker’s this morning!” he said. Then he laughed almost contemptuously, and with some slight show of spirit. “Do you think I’d have been such a fool as to try to pawn or sell a ring that belonged to a man who’d just been murdered?” he demanded. “I’m not quite such an ass as that!”
Viner looked round at Drillford.
“There!” he said quietly. “What did I tell you? Isn’t that what I said? You’re on the wrong track, Inspector!”
But Drillford, sternly official in manner, shook his head.
“How did he come by the ring, then?” he asked, pointing at his prisoner. “Let him say!”
“Hyde!” said Viner. “Tell! I’ve been certain for an hour that you didn’t kill this man, and I want to help you. But—tell us the truth! What do you know about it? How did you get that ring?”
“I shall make use of anything he tells,” remarked Drillford warningly.
“He’s going to tell—everything,” said Viner. “Come now, Hyde, the truth!”
Hyde suddenly dropped into a chair by which he was standing, and pressed his hand over his face with a gesture which seemed to indicate a certain amount of bewilderment.
“Let me sit down,” he said. “I’m weak, tired, too. Until this morning I hadn’t had a mouthful of food for a long time, and I’d—well, I’d been walking about, night as well as day. I was walking about all yesterday, and a lot of last night. I’m pretty nearly done, if you want to know!”
“Take your time,” said Drillford. “Here, wait a bit,” he went on after a sudden glance at his prisoner. “Keep quiet a minute.” He turned to a cupboard in the corner of the room and presently came back with something in a glass. “Drink that,” he said not unkindly. “Drop of weak brandy and water,” he muttered to Viner. “Do him no harm—I see how it is with him—he’s been starving.”
Hyde caught the last word and laughed feebly as he handed the glass back.
“Starving!” he said. “Yes—that’s it! I hope neither of you’ll know what it means! Three days without—”
“Now, Hyde!” interrupted Viner. “Never mind that—you won’t starve again. Come—tell us all about this—tell everything.”
Hyde bent forward in his chair, but after a look at the two men, his eyes sought the floor and moved from one plank to another as
