And then he talked through the window, and was in the public-house, which ain't a place for an almighty aristocrat to shelter in.

I guess he's the man wanted by the police.

Why," added Hervey, warming to his tale, "he'd a slap-up yacht laying near the blamed hotel, and could easily ship the corpse, after slipping it through the window.

When he got tired of it, and looted the emeralds, he took it by boat, below the Fort, to Mrs.
Jasher's garden and left it there, so as to pull the wool over the eyes of the police.

It's as clear as mud to me.