"And yet my man Dollops found them under the shrubbery and in this condition this morning--after last night's terrible affair, Miss Duggan," put in Cleek quietly, keen eyes upon her face.
"It certainly looks black for Angus, Mr. Deland," she replied in a frightened voice. "But I'll swear he never used them. I'll swear it in court, if need be."
She stopped a moment and sucked in her breath, and then a sudden look of determination came over her face.
"Because," she said steadily, "he was coming to meet _me_ in the grounds last night, as he had come often enough before. We could never see each other in daylight, as Father had forbidden him the house and so we stole our meetings at night, under the old oak tree at the bottom of the first lawn. You can't see it from the house, as that hedge of yew hides it entirely."
"And you saw him last night? You'll swear upon that?"
"I--I--that is--_yes_, I saw him last night," she replied, with flaming cheeks and upthrown chin. "First Ross, and now Angus! You're cruel, Mr. Deland, cruel as detectives can so often be! I thought you were going to help me--truly--and, instead, you cast suspicions upon the two people I love most dearly in the world! How can I possibly put you upon other clues? _Anything_ to lead you away from such a false and utterly unworthy scent!"
Cleek laid a hand upon her arm, and bending his head, looked down at her, a great sadness upon his face.
"Justice is so often cruel, Miss Duggan," he said quietly, "and to men in my profession we have so often to be cruel to be kind. I wouldn't hurt you for the world, believe me. But I must do my duty to the Law that employs me at all costs. I am not indicting your fiancé--truly--and there may be still another way out. Men have borrowed each other's boots before now. And if you can tell me the size of the feet of the men in this household, it will be a considerable help."
She lifted her eyes and looked at him, filled with a sudden hope.
"I can tell you Ross's this minute," she said quickly. "He takes eights. He has a small foot, like poor old Father had. And Cyril's, of course, is just a boy's foot--sevens, I think."
"The butler, Jarvis. Our groom, Batchett, and the old gardener, McGubbins--and Mr. Tavish; but he's a huge man, and would take elevens, I should imagine--if not bigger. Anyhow, I'll make inquiries, and be back with you in ten minutes, if that will do."