"Yes."
"You were putting the croquet set into its box?"
"Yes."
"You heard someone crossing the yard?"
"Yes."
"It was Withers?"
"Yes."
"So you called him?"
"Yes."
"Loudly? Did you call him loudly? Could anyone have heard?"
"No, Father. I'm sure not. I didn't call him. He saw me as I went to the door. He just waved his hand and came over."
"How can I find out from you whether there was anyone about? Whether he could have been seen?"
"I'm sure not, Father. I'm quite sure."
"So you both went into the stable?"
"Yes. It was raining hard."
"What did he say?"
"He said 'Hullo, Milly.' And to excuse him coming in the back way, but he'd set out to walk over to Bass Hill."
"Yes."
"And he said, passing the park, he'd seen the house and suddenly thought of me, and he thought he'd just look in for a minute, just to tell me something. He said he was so happy, he wanted me to share it. He'd heard from the Bishop he was to have the vicarage. And it wasn't only that. It meant he could marry. And he began to stutter. And I thought he meant me."
"Don't tell me what you thought. Exactly what he said. Nothing else."
"Well . . . Oh dear!"
"Don't cry. It is a luxury you cannot afford. Tell me."
"He said no. He said it wasn't me. It's Ella Brangwyn-Davies. And he was sorry. And all that. Then he went to go "
"And then?"
"I went mad. He turned his back. I had the winning post of the croquet set in my hand "
"Did you shout or scream? I mean, as you hit him?"
"No. I'm sure I didn't."
"Did he? Come on. Tell me."
"No, Father."
"And then?"
"I threw it down. I came straight into the house. That's all. I wish I were dead!"
"And you met none of the servants. No one will go into the stable. You see, George, he probably told people he was going to Bass Hill. Certainly no one knows he came here. He might have been attacked in the woods. We must consider every detail . . . A curate, with his head battered in "
"Don't, Father!" cried Millicent.
"Do you want to be hanged? A curate, with his head battered in, found in the woods. Who'd want to kill Withers?"
There was a tap on the door, which opened immediately. It was little Captain Smollett, who never stood on ceremony. "Who'd kill Withers?" said he. "I would, with pleasure. How d'you do, Mrs. Princey. I walked right in."
"He heard you, Father," moaned Millicent.
"My dear, we can all have our little joke," said her father. "Don't pretend to be shocked. A little theoretical curate-killing, Smollett. In these days we talk nothing but thrillers."
"Parsonicide," said Captain Smollett. "Justifiable parsonicide. Have you heard about Ella Brangwyn-Davies? I shall be laughed at."
"Why?" said Mr. Princey. "Why should you be laughed at?"
"Had a shot in that direction myself," said Smollett, with careful sang-froid. "She half said yes, too. Hadn't you heard? She told most people. Now it'll look as if I got turned down for a white rat in a dog collar."
"Too bad!" said Mr. Princey.
"Fortune of war," said the little captain.
"Sit down,"said Mr. Princey. "Mother, Millicent, console Captain Smollett with your best light conversation. George and I have something to look to. We shall be back in a minute or two, Smollett. Come, George."
It was actually five minutes before Mr. Princey and his son returned.
"Excuse me, my dear," said Mr. Princey to his wife. "Smollett, would you care to see something rather interesting? Come out to the stables for a moment."
They went into the stable yard. The buildings were now unused except as odd sheds. No one ever went there. Captain Smollett entered, George followed him, Mr. Princey came last. As he closed the door he took up a gun which stood behind it. "Smollett," said he, "we have come out to shoot a rat which George heard squeaking under that tub. Now, you must listen to me very carefully or you will be shot by accident. I mean that."
Smollett looked at him. "Very well," said he. "Go on."
"A very tragic happening has taken place this afternoon, "said Mr. Princey. "It will be even more tragic unless it is smoothed over."
"Oh?" said Smollett.
"You heard me ask," said Mr. Princey, "who would kill Withers. You heard Millicent make a comment, an unguarded comment."
"Well?" said Smollett. "What of it?"
"Very little," said Mr. Princey. "Unless you heard that Withers had met a violent end this very afternoon. And that, my dear Smollett, is what you are going to hear."
"Have you killed him?" cried Smollett.
"Millicent has," said Mr. Princey.
"Hell!" said Smollett.
"It is hell," said Mr. Princey. "You would have remembered and guessed."
"Maybe," said Smollett. "Yes. I suppose I should."
"Therefore," said Mr. Princey, "you constitute a problem."
"Why did she kill him?" said Smollett.
"It is one of these disgusting things," said Mr. Princey. "Pitiable, too. She deluded herself that he was in love with her."
"Oh, of course," said Smollett.
"And he told her about the Brangwyn-Davies girl."
"I see," said Smollett.
"I have no wish," said Mr. Princey, "that she should be proved either a lunatic or a murderess. I could hardly live here after that."
"I suppose not," said Smollett.
"On the other hand," said Mr. Princey, "you know about it."
"Yes," said Smollett. "I am wondering if I could keep my mouth shut. If I promised you "
"I am wondering if I could believe you," said Mr. Princey.
"If I promised," said Smollett.
"If things went smoothly," said Mr. Princey. "But not if there was any sort of suspicion, any questioning. You would be afraid of being an accessory."
"I don't know," said Smollett.
"I do," said Mr. Princey. "What are we going to do?"
"I can't see anything else," said Smollett. "You'd never be fool enough to do me in. You can't get rid of two corpses."
"I regard it," said Mr. Princey, "as a better risk than the other. It could be an accident. Or you and Withers could both disappear. There are possibilities in that."
"Listen,"said Smollett. "You can't "
"Listen," said Mr. Princey. "There may be a way out. There is a way out, Smollett. You gave me the idea yourself."
"Did I?" said Smollett. "What?"
"You said you would kill Withers," said Mr. Princey. "You have a motive."
"I was joking," said Smollett.
"You are always joking," said Mr. Princey. "People think there must be something behind it. Listen, Smollett, I can't trust you, therefore you must trust me. Or I will kill you now, in the next minute. I mean that. You can choose between dying and living."
"Go on, "said Smollett.
"There is a sewer here," said Mr. Princey, speaking fast and forcefully. "That is where I am going to put Withers. No outsider knows he has come up here this afternoon. No one will ever look there for him unless you tell them. You must give me evidence that you have murdered Withers."
"Why?" said Smollett.
"So that I shall be dead sure that you will never open your lips on the matter," said Mr. Princey.
"What evidence?" said Smollett.
"George," said Mr. Princey, "hit him in the face, hard."
"Good God!" said Smollett.
"Again," said Mr. Princey. "Don't bruise your knuckles."
"Oh!" said Smollett.
"I'm sorry," said Mr. Princey. "There must be traces of a struggle between you and Withers. Then it will not be altogether safe for you to go to the police."
"Why won't you take my word?" said Smollett.
"I will when we've finished," said Mr. Princey. "George, get that croquet post. Take your handkerchief to it. As I told you. Smollett, you'll just grasp the end of this croquet post. I shall shoot you if you don't."