“There is a motive, ” said Miss Silver. “But it would only influence a very unprincipled character. And I must confess, my dear Randal, that I think you are straining the probabilities when you contend that, granting a motive, Mr. Rafe had the opportunity of committing this murder. You say he talked with Mrs. Jerningham after she had seen Cissie Cole, and then went for a walk along the beach. According to your theory he got on to the cliff path and hurried to the headland, where, seeing Cissie Cole in Mrs. Jerningham’s coat, he took her in the failing light for his cousin’s wife and pushed her over the cliff. But why did he go to Tane Head at all, and why, having hurried there, should he think it possible that the person whom he saw could be Mrs. Jerningham whom he had just left at Tanfield Court?”

March ran his hand through his hair.

“I can’t tell you why he went there, because I don’t know. He may have been restless. He may, like Lady Steyne, have wanted to see the sunset, and he may have hurried because the light was failing. But it would have been perfectly possible for Mrs. Jerningham whom he left at Tanfield to have reached Tane Head before him. Her own car was out of action, but her husband’s car was there and so was Rafe’s. She also might have wanted to watch the sunset. But he wouldn’t think of all that. He’d see a familiar figure with its back to him outlined against the sunset. Cissie Cole was a tall, thin girl with fair hair. A back view of her in Mrs. Jerningham’s own coat might have deceived anyone. I believe it deceived Rafe Jerningham. I believe he came up behind her, took her by the shoulders, and threw her over the cliff, and came back as he went without anyone seeing him. There wasn’t anyone to see him except his cousins, Dale and Lady Steyne. If they did see him, do you suppose they would tell? And if that poor girl cried out and they heard her, do you suppose they’d tell that either? No – that’s what happened, but unless a witness drops from heaven there isn’t enough evidence to risk a sixpence on – nothing but those handprints on the shoulders of her coat.”

Miss Silver gazed at him.

“Did you ask Mrs. Jerningham who helped her on with her coat the last time she wore it?”

“Yes, I did,” said March in an exasperated tone – “and it was Rafe. But I swear those prints were not made then. They’re not in the right place, and they’re too fresh. You don’t put your hands round the top of a woman’s sleeve when you help her into a coat. And they’re too clear. They couldn’t have been made on Sunday. They’re the clearest of all the prints.”

“It’s certainly a very interesting case,” said Miss Silver.

MISS SILVER was walking along the high street next day, when she saw Mrs. Dale Jerningham get out of a car and go into Ashley’s through the big swing door. The car, which was driven by Rafe Jerningham, moved on again at once and disappeared amongst the traffic. Miss Silver watched it go. She thought it turned down into Market Square, but she wasn’t sure. She followed the tall, slim figure in white and came up with it in the Ladies’ Outfitting.

“Good-morning, Mrs. Jerningham.”

Lisle turned from the counter, startled.

“Miss Silver!”

“We do keep meeting, don’t we?” said Miss Silver affably.

Lisle said “Yes” in a rather shaken tone. They did keep on meeting – but it couldn’t mean anything – if it did mean anything, it would mean… She said, hurrying to get away from her own thoughts, “I’m getting a bathing-dress. Mine got torn -” And there her voice faltered and dropped.

Miss Silver gave her little cough.

“Ah, yes – that would be when you were nearly drowned, would it not? I remember you told me. But you did not tell me how it happened, or who saved you. You were bathing with your husband and his cousins, were you not?”

The elderly saleswoman brought a pile of stockinette bathing-dresses and put them down on the counter.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind looking these through, Mrs. Jerningham. We’re rather busy this morning.” She went away.

There was no one near them at that counter. Lisle picked up a cream jersey tunic and said,

“Oh, I think I made too much of it. I couldn’t have been in any real danger.”

“It is most alarming to get out of one’s depth,” said Miss Silver. “I think you mentioned that you were not a good swimmer.”

Lisle tried for a smile.

“Oh, not at all. And the others are so good. I went farther out than I meant to and could not get back, and they were laughing, and splashing, and ducking one another, so they didn’t hear me.” She looked at Miss Silver with wide, darkened eyes. “It’s rather horrid when you call and no one hears you.”

“But somebody did hear you,” said Miss Silver briskly.

Lisle’s golden brown lashes came down and hid her eyes. A bright colour showed in her cheeks and ebbed again. She said in a soft, confused voice,

“I don’t know – I don’t remember – it was just like drowning – I went down, you know.”

“Who saved you, Mrs. Jerningham?”

“There was a man bathing off the beach. People aren’t supposed to – the ground all belongs to Tanfield – but he had run his car on to the downs and come down by the cliff path. I don’t even know his name – nobody thought of asking him. But he heard me call and saw me go down, and swam out and brought me in. I was quite a long time coming round.” She stopped and went on again, stumbling over her words. “It – it was dreadful for my – husband and – the others to – to think of my being nearly drowned so – so close to them. Dale was – was dreadfully upset. And my bathing-dress got torn at the neck where the man caught hold of me, so – so I have to get another. I haven’t bathed since, but it’s no good putting it off, is it? The only way to get over being nervous about a thing is to go on and do it. Don’t you think so?”

“Sometimes,” said Miss Silver. “But I don’t think I should go out of my depth if I were you.”

Lisle said, “No.” And then, “Rafe said that too. But Dale is such a good swimmer that he wants me to try – Which of these shall I get? Do you like the cream? I have a cream rubber cap.”

“I shouldn’t go out of my depth,” said Miss Silver gravely. “Are you coming to see me, my dear?”

Lisle looked at her for a moment, and then looked away. The look held sadness, but no embarrassment.

“I don’t think I can.”

Miss Silver came nearer.

“I want to ask you a question. Will you believe that I have a serious reason for asking it, and not think me impertinent?”

Lisle raised her head and looked round quickly. They were alone at the counter. To the right the stocking counter was doing a brisk business. They were as much alone as if four solid walls had closed them in. She said in a young, warm voice,

“I should never think that.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“You told me you had made a will in your husband’s favour. I want to ask you whether there were any other substantial legacies.”

Lisle caught her breath. She had not expected this. Rafe… She repeated the name aloud.

“Rafe – there was one for Rafe.”

“Does he know that?”

“Yes – I told him-”

“A substantial legacy?”

“Twenty thousand pounds.”

Miss Silver leaned towards her and said in the lowest possible voice,

“Mrs. Jerningham – will you take my advice? Will you do something?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Ring up your solicitor – now, at once, from here. Tell him you are not satisfied with your will and you propose to make a new one. Tell him you wish the old one destroyed – now, at once. I do not know whether he will take such an instruction over the telephone. If he knows you well enough to be quite sure that it is you who are speaking, he may do so – it does not really very much matter. Instruct him to do it and ring off. Then go home and tell every member of your family what you have done. Make any excuse you like, but make it quite clear that you have given instructions to have your existing will destroyed. Go up to town as soon as you can and make sure that these instructions have been carried out. Make a provisional will leaving everything to some charity.”