As she passed over the inn-threshold, she decided in favour of
Frankl: and a few minutes past seven was on Mousehold Heath.

Frankl hurried to meet her, and the hand which he held out was
rather cold; but she did not take it.

"No, Mr. Frankl", said she, "before I give my hand, it is only what
is due to me to hear how Richard's pistol, which I trusted to you,
was found where it was--"

"Well, that is only fair", answered Frankl; "that is only fair. But
I have a carriage there, let us get into it, and sit as we talk".

She could see no carriage in that dark, yet it stood only some yards
away--Frankl's own.

"I think I prefer to stand..." said she.

"As you like. But with regard to the gun, I should have thought that
you could have guessed how it was--but no, you always mistrust me
instead--the Jew. Don't you know that the dead man was a servant in
my house? Well, I left the two guns in my study, and he, wanting to
shoot himself, stole one, that's all".

"It was _he_ shot himself?"

"Why, who else? You don't suppose Richard shot him! You are as cool
as they make them".