llet 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."

"Then," said Lambert coolly, and drawing a breath of relief, for the
tension had been great, "the inference is obvious. Silver shot Hubert
Pine."

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN AMAZING ACCUSATION.

"Beng in tutes bukko!" swore Chaldea in good Romany, meaning that she
wished the devil was in some one's body. And she heartily meant what she
said, and cared little which of the two men's interior was occupied by
the enemy of mankind, since she hated both. The girl was disappointed to
think that Lambert should escape from her snare, and enraged that
Garvington's production of one revolver and his confession that Silver
had the other tended to this end. "May the pair of you burn in hell,"
she cried, taking to English, so that they could understand the insult.
"Ashes may you be in the Crooked One's furnace."

Lambert shrugged his shoulders, as he quite understood her feelings, and
did not intend to lower himself by correcting her. He addressed himself
to his cousin and turned his back on the gypsy. "Silver shot Hubert
Pine," he repeated, with his eyes on Garvington's craven face.

"It's impossible--impossible!" returned the other hurriedly. "Silver was
shut up in the house with the rest. I saw to the windows and doors
myself, along with the butler and footmen. At the inquest--"

"Never mind about the inquest. I know what you said there, and I am now
beginning to see why you said it."

"What the devil do you mean?"