I hurried home and then went up to Riversbrook and
reported myself to you, sir."
As Hill finished his story he buried his face in his hands, and bowed his
head on the table in an attitude of utter dejection. Rolfe, looking at
him, wondered if he were acting a part, or if he had really told the
truth. He looked at Inspector Chippenfield to see how he regarded the
confession, but his superior officer was busily writing in his note-book.
In a few moments, however, he put the pocket-book down on the table and
turned to the butler.
"Sit up, man," he commanded sternly. "I want to ask you some questions."
Hill raised a haggard face.
"Yes, sir," he said, with what seemed to be a painful effort.
"What is this girl Fanning like?"
"Rather a showy piece of goods, if I may say so, sir. She has big black
eyes, and black hair and small, regular teeth."
"And Sir Horace had been keeping her?"
"I think so, sir."
"And a fortnight before Sir Horace left for Scotland there was a
quarrel--Sir Horace cast her off?"
"That is what it looked like to me," said the butler.
"What was the cause of the quarrel?"
"That I don't know, sir."
"Didn't Birchill tell you?"
"Well, not in so many words.
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