“Perhaps,” said Harry slowly, “he doesn’t come in at all.”
“What?”
“Think back, Anne. Did you ever hear Pagett’s own account of that night on the Kilmorden ?”
“Yes—through Sir Eustace.”
I repeated it. Harry listened closely.
“He saw a man coming from the direction of Sir Eustace’s cabin and followed him up on deck. Is that what he says? Now, who had the cabin opposite to Sir Eustace? Colonel Race. Supposing Colonel Race crept up on deck, and, foiled in his attack on you, fled round the deck and met Pagett just coming through the saloon door. He knocks him down and springs inside, closing the door. We dash round and find Pagett lying there. How’s that?”
“You forget that he declares positively it was you who knocked him down.”
“Well, suppose that just as he regains consciousness he sees me disappearing in the distance? Wouldn’t he take it for granted that I was his assailant? Especially as he thought all along it was I he was following?”
“It’s possible, yes,” I said slowly. “But it alters all our ideas. And there are other things.”
“Most of them are open to explanation. The man who followed you in Cape Town spoke to Pagett, and Pagett looked at his watch. The man might have merely asked him the time.”
“It was just a coincidence, you mean?”