"When the jewels had been sufficiently admired, they were put back into their resting-place and locked up. A little later we bade each other goodnight, and went off to our several rooms. I had ordered an early breakfast, and I left Tewkesbury by the seven a.m. train, having taken a ticket through to Bristol. By the time I reached Gloucester, however, I had changed my mind. The weather was brilliant, and I should not be looked for at home for several days. Why not go down Hereford way, and explore the scenery of the Wye, and by so doing gratify a wish that dated back for several years? I accordingly quitted the Bristol train at Gloucester, and booked myself through by another line to Hereford, which place I reached late in the afternoon. I was sitting next morning in the coffee-room of the hotel, plodding through my breakfast, when the door was opened, and a heavy hand was laid on my shoulder, and next moment I found myself arrested on a double charge of robbery and murder. Stilling had been found dead in his bed at the Pelican Hotel: the silver-clamped box could not be found, and I was charged with the double crime. "But I must not weary you. At the very bottom of my travelling bag was found a bracelet set with turquoises and diamonds, that had been the property of Stilling. In the murdered man's room was found a handkerchief marked with my initials. I had taken a railway ticket to Bristol, but had left the train at Gloucester, and had gone forward by another line in order to baffle pursuit--so they said. Taken in conjunction, these facts were enough to condemn any man, and they condemned me. Twelve men unanimously found me guilty, and the judge told me that he quite concurred in their verdict. And then I saw the black cap put on, and heard my own death-sentence pronounced, and heard my wife's wild shriek for mercy, where no mercy could be shown. Can you wonder that my brain gave way?" He paused. In the silence they heard the clocks strike twelve. "The same hand that put the bracelet into my bag put my handkerchief into the murdered man's room. It was the hand of Jacoby! How I know that--how I feel so sure of it--I cannot explain to either of you, and if I could you would only smile at me. In this world much of our highest knowledge comes to us intuitively, and by intuition only do I know that it was Max Jacoby who compassed the death of Paul Stilling--but that suffices for me." "Then your idea," said Gerald, "is to find out whether this Max Jacoby is still alive?" "It is. And I want you, out of your knowledge of the world, to advise me as to the best mode of setting about this business." "I am going out of town to-morrow for a couple of days. I will think over very carefully all that you have said, and will make a point of seeing you immediately upon my return." With this agreement they separated for the night, and early next morning Gerald set out for Pembridge.