The subject of this conference sat leering at the ashes, trying with all his might to overhear what was said, but feigning abstraction as the “Governors Both” glanced at him.

“You mentioned (twice, I think) a daughter of this Hexam’s,” said Eugene, aloud. “You don’t mean to imply that she had any guilty knowledge of the crime?”

The honest man, after considering⁠—perhaps considering how his answer might affect the fruits of the sweat of his brow⁠—replied, unreservedly, “No, I don’t.”

“And you implicate no other person?”

“It ain’t what I implicate, it’s what Gaffer implicated,” was the dogged and determined answer. “I don’t pretend to know more than that his words to me was, ‘I done it.’ Those was his words.”

“I must see this out, Mortimer,” whispered Eugene, rising. “How shall we go?”