I escaped your spy, Random, and I escaped the
notice of the sentry. I walked like a cat, and like a cat I can
see in the dark. I am glad you have got the emerald."
"Where did you get it?" asked Random quietly.
"That's a long story. I don't know that I have the strength to
tell it. I have written it out."
"You have written it out?" said Hope quickly, and drawing near.
"Yes. Jane thought that I was writing letters, but I was writing
out the whole story of the murder. You were good to me, Random,
you dear boy, and on the impulse of the moment I took the emerald
to you. I was sorry when I got back, but it was too late then to
repent, as I did not dare to go near the Fort again. Your spy
who watched might have discovered me the second time. I then
thought that I would write out the story of the murder, so as to
exonerate myself."
"Then you are not guilty of Bolton's death?" asked Sir Frank,
puzzled, for her confession was somewhat incoherent.
"No. I did not strangle him. But I know who did. I have
written it all down. I was just finishing when I heard the
tapping at the window. I let him in and he tried to get the
confession, for I told him what I had done."
"Who did you tell?" asked Hope, much excited.
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