"Do you not see," he said at last, "that your vehemence reveals your thoughts? For anything you know to the contrary, your brother may have committed the crime. Nay, it requires but slight knowledge of human nature to read your suspicions lest it be true. At this moment I am convinced that you are, in your heart, less sceptical than I of his guilt." Mrs. Hillmer flung herself again upon the lounge, silent, tearful, torn with violent emotion, which she vainly tried to suppress. He tried to reason with her. "It will, perhaps, serve to clear up a mystery that deepens each moment if you place your trust in me," he said. "Tell me fully and openly any cause you may have for fearing that your brother may be implicated in this terrible business. I ask you to adopt this course in all faith. I have seen your brother under most trying circumstances; I have been with him at an hour when it would be impossible for him to conceal his burden if the weight of Lady Dyke's death lay upon him. Yet I think him innocent. I think that chance has contributed to gather evidence against him. If I can learn even a portion of the truth it will enable me to quickly dispel the barrier of uncertainty that now hinders progress." "What is it you want to know?" Mrs. Hillmer's voice was hollow and broken. The barrister was shocked at the effect of his revelation, but he was forced to go on with the disagreeable task he had undertaken. "Do you mean," he asked, "that you will answer my questions?" "So far as I can." "Would it not be better to tell me in your own words what you have to say?" Mrs. Hillmer looked up, and the agony in her face filled him with keen pity. "Oh, Heaven help me to do what is right!" she cried. "Your prayer will surely be answered. I am certain of that. A great wrong has been committed by some one, and the innocent must not suffer to shield the guilty." Mrs. Hillmer bowed her head and did not utter a word for some minutes. She appeared to be reasoning out some plan of action in a dazed fashion. When decision came she said in low tones: "You must leave me now, Mr. Bruce. I must have time. When I am ready I shall send for you." He knew instinctively that it was hopeless to plead with her. Frivolous, volatile women of her stamp often betray unusual strength of character in a supreme crisis. "You are adopting an unwise course," he said sadly. "Maybe. But I must be alone. I am not deceiving you. When I have determined something which is not now clear to me, I will send for you. It may be that I shall speak. It may be that I shall be silent. In either case I only can judge--and suffer." "Tell me one thing at least, Mrs. Hillmer, before we part. Did you know of Lady Dyke's death before to-day?" She came to him and looked him straight in the face, and said: "I did not. On my soul, I did not."