"Take care, Clarke--take care," said Jerce, despairingly.
"I take care no longer," said the parson, fiercely; "I have told my son's shame here, and if necessary I shall tell it to all the world, rather than let Ferdinand suffer unjustly. He did not murder Horran."
"Then who did?" asked Clarice, entering swiftly, and standing with her back to the door.
Clarke pointed to the doctor. "Sir Daniel Jerce."
"I saw you in your motor coming along by the common during my midnight walk," said Clarke, rapidly. "I saw you hide the motor in the woods. I followed you secretly to the house. You entered by the window, and I stole up to see you kill Horran with the assegai, which you tore from the wall. You fled, and I ran after you. I caught you in the lane, near the wood, and accused you. Then you told me that Frank was a murderer--one of the Purple Fern gang--and swore to denounce him, dead though he was, unless I held my peace. I did so--yes, God help me--I did so, and concealed your wickedness to save the good name of my dead son. While Osip was accused, I still held my peace, for another murder set down to him mattered little. But now that you accuse Ferdinand, I say boldly, and I will say it to the police, that you and none other murdered Henry Horran."
"It's false," gasped Jerce, quailing and shrinking, and looking towards the window, as though anxious to escape.
"It is true. After I left you, I went back to the room----"
"That was when I was under the bed," said Ferdy, quickly.
"Were you? I did not know; but you are innocent, my poor boy. I arranged the bedclothes, and then returned home. Zara Dumps accused me and I said nothing, although I knew the truth. But there stands the murderer," he pointed to Jerce, who trembled; "go for the police."
"No! No!" cried Sir Daniel, ghastly white. "Let me go. I promise to destroy myself. Anything rather than public shame."
"I'll have you in gaol to-night," said Ferdy, triumphantly.
"Take care!" snarled Jerce. "If I killed Horran, you stamped the fern on the forehead of the dead. I'll swear that you were my accomplice."
"Clarice," cried Ferdy, gasping with fear, "you hear."
"I hear, and I know how to act," said Clarice, calm and white. "Anthony, have you pen and ink and paper? There they are," she indicated a rosewood desk in the corner of the drawing-room. "Sit down and write what Sir Daniel says."