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"The a.s.sault?" queried Malcolm Sage.
"There I'm done," said Freynes, "for although Miss Crayne's evidence is not proof, it will be sufficient for a jury. Besides, she's a very pretty and charming girl. I suppose," he added, "Blade must have made some sort of declaration, which she, in the light of the anonymous letters, entirely misunderstood."
"What does he say?"
"Denies it absolutely, although he admits being in the neighbourhood of the 'Gipsies Wood,' and actually catching sight of Miss Crayne in the distance; but he says he did not speak to her."
"Is he going into the witness-box?"
"Certainly"; then after a pause he added, "Kelton is prosecuting, and he's as moral as a swan. He'll appeal to the jury as fathers of daughters, and brothers of sisters."
Malcolm Sage made no comment; but continued smoking mechanically, his attention apparently absorbed in the cards before him.
"If you can smash the handwriting experts," continued the K.C., "I may be able to manage the girl's testimony."
"It will not be necessary," said Malcolm Sage, carefully placing a nine of clubs upon an eight of diamonds.
"Not necessary?"
"I have' asked Murdy to come round," continued Malcolm Sage, still intent upon his game. "I think that was his ring."
A minute later the door opened to admit the burly inspector, more blue-eyed and genial than ever, and obviously in the best of spirits.
"Good evening, Mr. Sage," he cried cheerfully. "Congratulations on the Adair business. Good evening, sir," he added, as he shook hands with Freynes.
He dropped heavily into a seat, and taking a cigar from the box on the table, which Malcolm Sage had indicated with a nod, he proceeded to light it. No man enjoyed a good cigar more than Inspector Murdy.
"Well, what do you think of it?" he enquired, looking from Malcolm Sage to Freynes. "It's a clear case now, I think." He slightly stressed the word "now."
"You mean it's Blade?" enquired Malcolm Sage, as he proceeded to gather up the cards.
"Who else?" enquired the inspector, through a cloud of smoke.
"That is the question which involves your being here now, Murdy,"
said Malcolm Sage dryly.
"We've got three handwriting experts behind us," said the inspector complacently.
"That is precisely where they should be," retorted Malcolm Sage quietly. "In the biblical sense," he added.
Freynes laughed, whilst Inspector Murdy looked from one to the other.
He did not quite catch the allusion.
"You have done as I suggested?" enquired Malcolm Sage, when he had placed the cards in their box and removed the card-table.
"Here are all the letters received up to a fortnight ago," said the inspector, holding out a bulky packet. "Those received since have each been sealed up separately by the vicar, who is keeping half of them, whilst I have the other half; but really, Mr. Sage, I don't understand----"
"Thank you, Murdy," said Malcolm Sage, as he took the packet. "It is always a pleasure to work with Scotland Yard, It is so thorough."
The inspector beamed; for he knew the compliment was sincere.
Without a word Malcolm Sage left the room, taking the packet with him.
"A bit quaint at times, ain't he, sir?" remarked Inspector Murdy to Freynes; "but one of the best. I'd trust him with anything."
Freynes nodded encouragingly.
"There are some of them down at the Yard that don't like him," he continued. "They call him 'Sage and Onions'; but most of us who have worked with him swear by Mr. Sage. He's never out for the limelight himself, and he's always willing to give another fellow a leg-up.
After all, it's our living," he added, a little inconsequently.
Freynes appreciated the inspector's delicacy in refraining from any mention of the Gylston case during Malcolm Sage's absence. After all, they represented respectively the prosecution and the defence. For nearly half an hour the two talked together upon unprofessional subjects. When Malcolm Sage returned, he found them discussing the prospects of Dempsey against Carpentier.
Handing back the packet of letters to Inspector Murdy, Malcolm Sage resumed his seat, and proceeded to re-light his pipe.
"Spotted the culprit, Mr. Sage?" enquired the inspector, with something that was very much like a wink in the direction of Freynes.
"I think so," was the quiet reply. "You might meet me at Gylston Vicarage to-morrow at three. I'll telegraph to Blade to be there too.
You had better bring the schoolmaster also."
"You mean----" began the inspector, rising.
"Exactly," said Malcolm Sage. "It's past eleven, and we all require sleep."
II
The next afternoon the study of the vicar of Gylston presented a strange appearance.
Seated at Mr. Crayne's writing-table was Malcolm Sage, a small attache-case at his side, whilst before him were several piles of sealed packets. Grouped about the room were Inspector Murdy, Robert Freynes, Mr. Gray, and the vicar.
All had their eyes fixed upon Malcolm Sage; but with varying expressions. Those of the schoolmaster were frankly cynical. The inspector and Freynes looked as if they expected to see produced from the attache-case a guinea-pig or a white rabbit, pink-eyed and kicking; whilst the vicar had obviously not yet recovered from his surprise at discovering that the stranger, who had shown such a remarkable knowledge of monumental bra.s.ses and Norman architecture, was none other than the famous investigator about whom he had read so much in the newspapers.
With quiet deliberation Malcolm Sage opened the attache-case and produced a spirit lamp, which he lighted. He then placed a metal plate upon a rest above the flame. On this he imposed a thicker plate of a similar metal that looked like steel; but it had a handle across the middle, rather resembling that of a tool used by plasterers.
He then glanced up, apparently unconscious of the almost feverish interest with which his every movement was being watched.
"I should like Miss Crayne to be present," he said.
As he spoke the door opened and the curate entered, his dark, handsome face lined and careworn. It was obvious that he had suffered. He bowed, and then looked about him, without any suggestion of embarra.s.sment.
Malcolm Sage rose and held out his hand; Freynes followed suit.
"Ask Miss Muriel to come here," said the vicar to the maid as she was closing the door.
The curate took the seat that Malcolm Sage indicated beside him.