This swift answer went straight through Pratt's defences. He was
prepared to hear something unpleasant and disconcerting, but not that.
And he voiced the first thought that occurred to him.

"That's a lie!" he exclaimed. "There was nobody there!"

"No lie," replied Parrawhite. "I was there. I was behind the curtain of
that recess--you know. And since I know what you did, I don't mind
telling you--we're in the same boat, my lad!--what I was going to do.
You thought I'd gone--with the others. But I hadn't. I'd merely done
what I've done several times without being found out--slipped in
there--to wait until you'd gone. Why? Because friend Eldrick, as you
know, is culpably careless about leaving loose cash in the unlocked
drawer of his desk, culpably careless, too, about never counting it.
And--a stray sovereign or half-sovereign is useful to a man who only
gets two quid a week. Understand?"

"So you're a thief?" said Pratt bitterly.

"I'm precisely what you are--a thief!" retorted Parrawhite. "You stole
John Mallathorpe's will last night. I heard everything, I tell you!--and
saw everything. I heard the whole business--what the old man said--what
you, later, said to Eldrick. I saw old Bartle die--I saw you take the
will from his pocket, read it, and put it in your pocket. I know
all!--except the terms of the will. But--I've a pretty good idea of what
those terms are. Do you know why? Because I watched you set off to
Normandale by the eight-twenty train tonight!"

"Hang you for a dirty sneak!" growled Pratt.