"Let him come inside, then," said Sir Evan.

"But - but he wishes to speak to me alone, dear," protested his wife.

Peter Brown had come to the interview conscious that he might be making a terrible mistake, and prepared to take the consequences, but each moment his fear grew less; Lady Pilth's every word and look strengthened his conviction. His intuition had not failed him. He knew now that he had guessed aright.

"This man can have nothing to say to you that should be secret from your husband, Mary," replied Sir Evan.

His pompous face had taken on a look of dread. He saw that his wife had something in her mind of which he knew nothing, and he had a foreboding of evil.

He awaited his wife's answer with all the anxiety of a man expecting a blow.

"I think it would be better, dear-if he wishes it," she said.

She was white to the lips, and her hands trembled and moved nervously.

Sir Evan's face darkened. After thirty-five years she had something hidden from him— something, too, that this stranger, this notorious criminal, shared with her! He was filled with a hot jealousy that overmounted his reason.

"I have no secrets from my wife, sir," he said, fixed determination in the staccato of his words. "She can have none from me. Say what you have to say and be gone."

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Peter Brown entered the sanctuary of the Pilths. That Sir Evan should have sacrificed his dignity so far as to receive an alleged jewel-thief into his privacy, with his own and his wife's discarded clothing littered indecently around, is sufficient proof of the agitation of his mind.

"Sir Evan, let me appeal to you again," said the detective earnestly. What I have to say concerns only Lady Pilth."

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"Mary, what do you say?"

"Mr Conliffe has worried himself into-delirium, Lady Pilth," he began, speaking more sharply than he knew in his discomfort. "I think you have punished him more than enough."

She made no answer, nor looked up, but stood plucking at a button of her dressinggown with restless fingers.

"I feel sure that when you

when you took the initial step, you had no idea that the thing would go so far. It has

gone too far. The man is dangerously mad, and unless something can be done quickly -at once-to convince him of his innocence, he will remain a hopeless lunatic."

"What do you mean, sir? In what way is Lady Pilth responsible for this wretched man's condition? I know from my own observation that drink is the cause of his degradation.'

He did not speak with his usual assurance. He knew from Peter Brown's earnest words and his wife's guilty silence that there were facts-painful, if not disgraceful facts-of which he was ignorant.

Peter Brown pitied him intensely. He tried to soften the blow that he must deal.

"Let me explain, Sir Evan," he said quietly. "At Malta, Conliffe insulted your wife most grossly when under the influence of drink. A lady holding such a position in life as she does had probably never even heard such words used before. Certainly never in connection with herself. She was terribly shocked and angered. Conliffe's words rankled in her mind. She could not forget them. She lay awake with them poisoning her mind the detective was repeating aloud the pictures that his imagination had called up in reaching what proved to be the truth-" and her outraged pride tried to find some means of punishing the man who had insulted her. She remembered his jeers at the jewellery she wore, and the threat he had

made to steal it, and then she saw a way to make him suffer. She never meant it to go so far, Sir Evan. She thought she would turn suspicion on him, and make his life on board uncomfortable, but she never dreamt that he would come to believe that he really had stolen the jewels."

Peter Brown paused. He had been carried out of himself by the demonstration of his case, and he was astonished at his own fluency.

"Is this true, Mary?" asked Sir Evan brokenly.

He was overwhelmed by the disclosure, and all his pomposity and self-assurance had dropped from him, leaving him a helpless and pitiable old man.

Lady Pilth had sunk upon the red plush couch, and was sobbing convulsively. There was no need for her to answer. The truth of the detective's words was manifest.

Sir Evan stood bewildered and broken. Then suddenly new thought crossed his mind.

a

“And you, sir, how do you come to be my wife's confidant in this disgraceful affair?" he demanded, with a hint of a return to his normal manner.

Peter Brown shook his head deprecatingly.

"I was not in her confidence," he said. "I suspected the truth first because Lady Pilth rather over-acted her part. It was only a vague idea at first, but it would not leave me; and gradually, as I guessed how her mind had

He found Charlie worse than before. He was in a frenzy of agony, at one moment making a wild rush for the door, the next tearing from his legs whatever loathsome creatures his disordered imagination had conceived to be attacking him. It was this that had saved Joan, for no sooner did he attempt to drag her from the door than he was assailed again by his imaginary foes, and forced to give up his attack in order to defend himself.

As Peter Brown entered, he was clawing and clutching at his legs and flinging from him the creatures of his phantasy, snarling and yelping like a mad dog in his bestial terror. They were gaining on him, one could see, for now he was brushing them frenziedly from his thighs. His face, inhuman in its fear, shone with sweat, and his eyes bulged and glittered with the pale light of lunacy.

Peter Brown feared that he was too late, that Charlie was too intent upon his delusions to be amenable to realities. He could but try.

"Conliffe," he began, "it has all been a mistake. The necklace has been found. Look, here it is."

He held out the blazing string that was the cause of all this agony, and dangled it in front of Charlie, in the hope that its glitter would hold his attention. The effect seemed all that he could have wished.

Charlie stared at the jewels intently—madly. A look of

VOL. CCX.-NO. MCCLXIX.

cunning came into his eyes, and he stood quite motionless -staring.

Peter Brown remained silent, holding the necklace outstretched in his hand. He began to hope again for the success of his plan. At least he had arrested Charlie's attention, and he seemed to have forgotten his recent delusions.

"So you're tied up again, you blighters," said Charlie, exultation in his voice. "You can't go crawling about tearing at a man's legs any more, blast you."

He glanced around, a look almost of sanity in his eyes, so crafty and cunning was it.

Joan, overcome by the strain of her efforts to hold him, had moved away from the door, and stood, leaning against the bunks, anxiously watching the experiment. Peter Brown remained motionless, trusting to the jewels to do their own work. Tied up good and tight,' repeated Charlie, his eyes gloating on the necklace.

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hurled across the cabin upon Mrs Conliffe, and Charlie, the necklace grasped in his hand, had reached the door and escaped.

By the time Brown had recovered himself and followed, the madman had gained a long start. He was half-way to the deck when the detective reached the bottom of the stairway. By chance there was no one to impede his progress, though his wild cries caused cabin doors to open after he had passed, and faces to peer out in anxious inquiry.

Peter Brown reached the deck in time to see Charlie Conliffe leap upon the rail of the ship. For a moment he balanced upright upon it, the diamonds sparkling in his hand in the light of the deck lamps. Brown dashed across to seize him-too late.

In you go and drown, blast you!" cried Charlie, hurling the diamonds from him into the sea.

The effort overbalanced him. He lurched from the rail and was gone.

Peter Brown was in time to see him hit the water, and to see also Lady Pilth's necklace sparkling in the ship's lights as it swung through the air, until suddenly quenched as it struck the water.

Almost immediately the engines stopped. The officer of the watch had seen what had happened. Passengers and crew rushed on deck, and there was some confusion as the boats were lowered until the

news of what had happened spread from lip to lip.

Peter Brown shook his head as he saw the preparations for the attempt at rescue. It had to be done, of course, but it was hopeless, he knew. He slipped off below, and reentered Joan Conliffe's cabin. She stood white and trembling in the middle of the floor.

"I know," she said as he entered. "I followed you." "They are putting out the boats," he said.

"Is there any-chance?" she asked.

Peter Brown shook his head. "Very little, I'm afraid," he said. "It is dark, and he is already far behind. What chance can there be?'

She looked at him steadily for a moment, then said— "I think it is better so."

She swayed upon her feet, and would have fallen had Peter Brown not held her. She had suffered too much, and now that it was over, she fainted.

Peter Brown laid her gently down, and went in search of the stewardess, whom he found on deck with the others. He sent her below to Joan Conliffe, then stood, hesitating.

The Pilths were not on deck. He must go to them.

Their cabin door opened quickly in answer to his gentle tap. Sir Evan looked out anxiously, and seeing who was outside, beckoned him in and closed the door quickly.

"What has happened?" he asked with trembling voice.