"It has never been my custom," he declared, "to countenance any deviation from the truth in others or to indulge in anything approaching a falsehood myself. I have to admit, however, that on the present occasion I made a false statement, which I beg leave to withdraw. The fact is," he confided, with a touch of that ingenuousness which was one of his characteristics, "I never doubted for a moment that my nephew Gregory, in the interests of the family, was guilty of this misdemeanour. I am a useless person in this world. He is a young man and our direct heir. I did what I thought best."
"But the Image?" Sir Bertram demanded in bewilderment--"the second Image of the Soul? How on earth did that get to the Hall?"
"I brought it," was Henry's complacent reply.
"On the night of Mr. Endacott's unfortunate decease," Henry replied. "I must confess that on the previous evening I paid a surreptitious visit here. I had no idea on that occasion of purloining the Image, but I was anxious to secure, if possible, a translation of any of the Chinese documents which Mr. Endacott was known to possess which might assist us towards the recovery of the jewels. I found Mr. Endacott, however, at work, and I was unfortunate enough to disturb him. During his brief absence in the garden I endeavoured to peruse his papers, but his unexpectedly prompt return forced me on that occasion to abandon the enterprise. On the following evening I saw Gregory leave the house----"
"I came to see if you were still in the garden," Gregory interrupted, turning to Claire.
"Precisely," Henry acquiesced, "but I was not at that time aware of your--er--attachment, nor did I attribute any sentimental purpose to your nocturnal excursion. I followed you--and at the side gate here, after some considerable interval, I heard what I imagined to be a muffled revolver shot. I crept from my place of concealment and entered the library. Mr. Endacott was lying there, quite dead. I listened for a moment. I was perhaps unnerved. I imagined that I heard your retreating footsteps from the anteroom into the courtyard. I listened again. There was nothing to be heard. The Image was lying on the floor by Mr. Endacott's side. He had probably been examining it prior to his lamented action and the fall of his body had displaced it. I considered. I decided that your nerve, Gregory, had failed you, that having committed the preliminary--er--misdeed, you had hurried away without the Image. I accordingly picked it up and brought it home. I placed it by the side of the other in my room. It has been there ever since. I saw the shock which its presence caused you, my dear brother--you too, Gregory--but I did not think an explanation advisable."