With that, he unlocked a safe and took from its recesses Sir Charles Dyke's "confession." He read the whole of its opening passages, explaining the relations between Mrs. Hillmer and her unfortunate but abiding friend. The straightforward, honest sentences sounded strangely familiar at this distance of time. Bruce was glad of the opportunity of reading them aloud. It seemed a fitting thing that this testimony should come, as it were, from the tomb. Corbett listened intently to the recital and to the barrister's summary of the events that followed. "Poor chap!" he said, when the sad tale had ended. "I hope you shook hands with him as he asked you to do?" "I did. Would that my grasp had the power to reassure him of my heartfelt sympathy." For a little while they were silent. "So," said Corbett at last, "Gwen thought I would make the same mistake as the poor lady, and suspect her wrongfully." "No, not that. But naturally she wished the man whom she could trust as a husband to be wholly cognizant of events in which already he had participated slightly." "She was right. I like her all the better for it. But, tell me, is there any necessity for that wonderful document to be preserved?" "Not the slightest. It has served its last use." "Then put it in the fire." Bruce did not hesitate a moment to comply with the wish. The flames devoured the record with avidity, and the two men watched the manuscript crumbling into nothingness. Then Corbett said: "I must be off to the Savoy." "Good-bye, old chap," said Bruce. "And good luck to you, too. I congratulate both Mrs. Hillmer and yourself." End of Project Gutenberg's A Mysterious Disappearance, by Gordon Holmes