ouse. If you were there that long--"

"I cannot say. Moments are hours at such a crisis--I--"

My emotions were too much for me, and I confusedly stopped. He was
surveying me with the old distrust. In a moment I saw why.

"You are not open with me," he protested. "Why should moments be hours to
you previous to the instant when you stripped those pillows from the
couch? You are not a fanciful man, nor have you any cowardly instincts.
Why were you in such a turmoil going through a house where you could have
expected to find nothing worse than some miserable sneak thief?"

This was a poser. I had laid myself open to suspicion by one
thoughtless admission, and what was worse, it was but the beginning in
all probability of many other possible mistakes. I had never taken the
trouble to measure my words and the whole truth being impossible, I
necessarily must make a slip now and then. He had better be warned of
this. I did not wish him to undertake my cause blindfolded. He must
understand its difficulties while believing in my innocence. Then, if
he chose to draw back, well and good. I should have to face the
situation alone.

"Charles," said I, as soon as I could perfectly control my speech, "you
are quite just in your remark. I am not and can not be perfectly open
with you. I shall tell you no lies, but beyond that I cannot promise. I
am caught in a net not altogether of my own weaving. So far I will be
frank with you. A common question may trip me up, others find me free and
ready with my defence. You have chanced upon one of the former. I was in
a turmoil of mind from the moment of my entrance into that fatal house,
but I can give no reason for it unless I am, as you hinted, a coward."

He settled that supposition with a gesture I had rather not have seen. It
would be better for him to consider me a poltroon than to suspect my real
reasons for the agitation which I had acknowledged.

"You say you cannot be open with me. That means you have certain memories
connected with that night which you cannot divulge."

"Right, Charles; but not memories of guilt--of active guilt, I mean. This
I have previously insisted on, and this is what you must believe. I am
not even an accessory before the fact. I am perfectly innocent so far as
Adelaide's death is concerned. You may proceed on that basis without
fear. That is, if you continue to take an interest in my case. If not, I
shall be the last to blame you. Little honour is likel