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"You judge him to be a foreigner?" I remarked as casually as I could.
"From his features and complexion I guessed him to be Italian," she
responded quickly, at which I pretended to express surprise. "I saw him
after the keepers had found him."
"Besides," she went on, "the stiletto was evidently an Italian one,
which would almost make it appear that a foreigner was the assassin."
"Is that your own suspicion?"
"No."
"Why?"
She hesitated a moment, then in a low, eager voice she said:
"Because I have already seen that three-edged knife in another person's
possession."
"That's pretty strong evidence," I declared. "The person in question
will have to prove that he was not in Rannoch Wood last evening at
nightfall."
"How do you know it was done at nightfall?" she asked quickly with some
surprise, half-rising from her chair.
"I merely surmised that it was," I responded, inwardly blaming myself
for my ill-timed admission.
"Ah!" she said with a slight sigh, "there is more mystery in this affair
than we have yet discovered, Mr.


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