"I have the bullet which killed him," said the gypsy, speaking very fast so as to prevent interruption. "Kara knifed it out of the tree-trunk which grows near the shrubbery. If I take it to the police and it fits your pistol, then where will you be, my precious cheat?"

Lambert looked at her thoughtfully. If she really did possess the bullet he would be able to learn if Garvington had fired the second shot, since it would fit the barrel of his revolver. So far as he was concerned, when coming to live in the Abbot's Wood Cottage, he had left all his weapons stored in London, and would be able to prove that such was the case. He did not fear for himself, as Chaldea's malice could not hurt him in this way, but he wondered if it would be wise to take her to The Manor, where Garvington was in residence, in order to test the fitting of the bullet. Finally, he decided to risk doing so, as in this way he might be able to force the girl's hand and learn how much she really knew. If aware that Garvington was the culprit, she would exhibit no surprise did the bullet fit the barrel of that gentleman's revolver. And should it be proved that she knew the truth, she would not dare to say anything to the police, lest she should be brought into the matter, as an accomplice after the fact. Chaldea misunderstood his silence, while he was thinking in this way, and smiled mockingly with a toss of her head.

"Ah, the rye is afraid. His sin has come home to him," she sneered.

"Hai, you are at my feet now, my Gorgious one."

"I think not," said Lambert coolly, and rose to put on his cap. "Come with me, Chaldea. We go to The Manor."

"And what would I do in the boro rye's ken, my precious?"

Lambert ignored the question. "Have you the bullet with you?"

"Avali," Chaldea nodded. "It lies in my pocket."

"Then we shall see at The Manor if it fits the pistol."

"Hai! you have left the shooter at the big house," said the girl, falling into the trap, and thereby proved--to Lambert at least--that she was really in the dark as regards the true criminal.

"Lord Garvington has a revolver of mine," said the young man evasively, although the remark was a true one, since he had presented his cousin with a brace of revolvers some twelve months before.

Chaldea looked at him doubtfully. "And if the bullet fits--"

"Then you can do what you like," retorted Lambert tartly. "Come on.

I can't wait here all day listening to the rubbish you talk."

The gypsy followed him sullenly enough, being overborne by his peremptory manner, and anxious, if possible, to bring home the crime to him. What she could not understand, for all her cleverness, was, why he should be so eager to condemn himself, and so went to The Manor on the lookout for treachery. Chaldea always judged other people by herself, and looked upon treachery as quite necessary on certain occasions. Had she guessed the kind of trap which Lambert was laying for her, it is questionable if she would have fallen into it so easily. And Lambert, even at this late hour, could not be certain if she really regarded him as guilty, or if she was only bluffing in order to gain her ends.

Needless to say, Garvington did not welcome his cousin enthusiastically when he entered the library to find him waiting with Chaldea beside him.

The fat little man rushed in like a whirlwind, and, ignoring his own shady behavior, heaped reproaches on Lambert's head.

"I wonder you have the cheek to come here," he raged. "You and this beast of a girl. I want no gypsies in my house, I can tell you. And you've lost me a fortune by your selfish behavior."

"I don't think we need talk of selfishness when you are present, Garvington."

"Why not? By marrying Agnes you have made her give up the money."

"She wished to give it up to punish you," said Lambert rebukingly.

"To punish me!" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his head. "And what have I done?"

Lambert laughed and shrugged his shoulders. In the face of this dense egotism, it was impossible to argue in any way. He dismissed the subject and got to business, as he did not wish to remain longer in Garvington's society than was absolutely necessary.

"This girl," he said abruptly, indicating Chaldea, who stood pa.s.sively at his elbow, "has found the bullet with which Pine was shot."

"Kara found it, my boro rye," put in the gypsy quickly, and addressing Lord Garvington, who gurgled out his surprises, "in the tree-trunk."

"Ah, yes," interrupted the other. "The elm which is near the shrubbery.

Then why didn't you give the bullet to the police?"

"Do you ask that, Garvington?" inquired Lambert meaningly, and the little man whirled round to answer with an expression of innocent surprise.

"Of course I do," he vociferated, growing purple with resentment. "You don't accuse me of murdering the man who was so useful to me, I hope?"

"I shall answer that very leading question when you bring out the revolver with which you shot Pine on that night."

"I only winged him," cried Garvington indignantly. "The second shot was fired by some unknown person, as was proved clearly enough at the inquest."

"All the same, I wish you to produce the revolver."

"Why?" The host looked suspicious and even anxious.

It was Chaldea who replied, and when doing so she fished out the battered bullet. "To see if this fits the barrel of the pistol which the golden rye gave you, my great one," said she significantly.

Garvington started, his color changed and he stole a queer look at the impa.s.sive face of his cousin. "The pistol which the golden rye gave me?"

he repeated slowly and weighing the words. "Did you give me one, Noel?"

"I gave you a couple in a case," answered Lambert without mentioning the date of the present. "And if this bullet fits the one you used--"

"It will prove nothing," interrupted the other hurriedly, and with a restless movement. "I fired from the doorstep, and my bullet, after breaking Pine's arm, must have vanished into the beyond. The shot which killed him was fired from the shrubbery, and, it is quite easy to guess how it pa.s.sed through him and buried itself in the tree which was in the line of fire."

"I want to see the pistols," said Lambert insistently, and this time Chaldea looked at him, wondering why he was so anxious to condemn himself.

"Oh, very well," snapped Garvington, with some reluctance, and walked toward the door. There he paused, and evidently awaited to arrive at some conclusion, the nature of which his cousin could not guess. "Oh, very well," he said again, and left the room.

"He thinks that you are a fool, as I do, my Gorgious," said Chaldea scornfully. "You wish to hang yourself it seems, my rye."

"Oh, I don't think that I shall be the one to be hanged. Tell me, Chaldea, do you really believe that I am guilty?"

"Yes," said the girl positively. "And if you had married me I should have saved you."

Lambert laughed, but was saved the trouble of a reply by the return of Garvington, who trotted in to lay a mahogany case on the table. Opening this, he took out a small revolver of beautiful workmanship. Chaldea, desperately anxious to bring home the crime to Lambert, hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed the weapon from the little man's hand and slipped the bullet into one of the chambers. It fitted--making allowance for its battered condition--precisely. She uttered a cry of triumph. "So you did shoot the Romany, my bold one," was her victorious speech.

"Because the bullet fits the barrel of a revolver I gave to my cousin some twelve months ago?" he inquired, smiling.

Chaldea's face fell. "Twelve months ago!" she echoed, greatly disappointed.

"Yes, as Lord Garvington can swear to. So I could not have used the weapon on that night, you see."

"I used it," admitted Garvington readily enough. "And winged Pine."

"Exactly. But I gave you a brace of revolvers of the same make. The bullet which would fit one--as it does--would fit the other. I see there is only one in the case. Where is the other?"

Garvington's color changed and he shuffled with his feet. "I lent it to Silver," he said in a low voice, and reluctantly.

"Was it in Silver's possession on the night Pine was shot?"

"Must have been. He borrowed it a week before because he feared burglars."