"They say nothing. They are simply doing their duty in trying to discover the truth. And you may take it from me, as an undoubted fact, that the last place this lady visited before her death was one of the flats in these mansions. All present indications point to your brother's residence as being that place. Now, I pray you, be calm, and try to help me, for I have acted in this matter as your friend and as your brother's friend. At this very moment I am concealing his identity and his whereabouts from the police, who are searching for him under the assumed name of Corbett. If he is guilty of this crime, then I must hand him over to justice, for the murdered woman was a dear and good friend of mine. If he is innocent, as, indeed, I believe him to be, I will strive to help him and save his good name from the tarnish of being arrested on such an odious charge." During this recital Mrs. Hillmer became deathly pale. Her agitation was the greater inasmuch as she forcibly controlled herself. But she could not remain seated. She sprang to the window and looked out, in the vain effort to seek inspiration from the gathering gloom of the street. Then she turned, and spoke very slowly: "I think I understand. I must have faith in you, Mr. Bruce. Who--was--the lady?" The barrister thought deeply before replying. He had previously decided upon this supreme step, but he hesitated now that it was imminent. There was no help for it. "Her name," said he, "is one which is well known to the world. Lady Dyke, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, is missing from her home since the evening of November 6 last. She met with a violent death that night, and I--not the police--have good reason to believe that she was killed in your brother's residence." Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on a lounge, buried her white face in her hands and moaned, in a perfect agony of terror: "Oh, my God! What shall I do? What shall I do?" This outburst astounded Bruce. He did not know what to make of it. His intelligence had certainly taken his hearer by surprise. What interpretation was he to place upon her words and her unrestrained actions? "Now, Mrs. Hillmer," he began; but she broke in vehemently, running to him and clutching him by the arm: "He is innocent, Mr. Bruce. He _must_ be innocent. He could not lift his finger to any woman. You must save him--do you hear?--save him, or you will have his blood on your soul. It _was_ true, then, that you came here to hunt for him. Save him, if you hope for mercy yourself when you are dying." In her passion she shook him violently, and for an instant they looked intently at each other--the woman tensely piteous, entreating; the man amazed and questioning.