'I thank you for doing me justice, Mr. Penwyn. I was very fond of your cousin. I liked him as well as if he had been my brother, and if the question had been put to me whether harm should come to him or me, I believe I should have chosen the evil lot for myself. His mother was a second mother to me, God bless her. She asked me to take care of him a few hours before her death, and I felt from that time as if I were responsible for his future. He was little more than a boy when his poor mother died. He was little more than a boy the last time I saw him alive, the night we had our first quarrel.' 'What was the quarrel about?' Mr. Clissold shrugged his shoulders, and glanced round the room, which was clearing by degrees, but not yet empty. 'It's too long a story to enter upon here,' he said. 'Come and dine with me at the "Castle," at eight o'clock, and tell me all about it,' said Churchill. 'You're very good. No. I can't manage that. I have something to do.' 'What is that?' 'To begin a business that may take a long time to finish.' 'May I ask the nature of that business?' 'I want to find James Penwyn's murderer.' Churchill shrugged his shoulders and smiled—a half compassionate smile. 'My dear sir,' he said, 'do you think that the murderer is ever found in such a case as this—given a delay of three days and nights—ample time for him to ship himself for any port in the known world? A low, clodhopping assassin, no doubt, in no way distinguishable from other clodhoppers. Find him! did you say? I can conceive no endeavour more hopeless. It is the fashion to rail at our police because they find it a little difficult to put their hands upon every delinquent who may be wanted, but it is hardly the simplest business in the world, to pick the right man out of ten or fifteen millions.' Maurice Clissold heard him with a troubled look and short impatient sigh. 'I dare say you are right,' he said, 'but I shall do my best to unravel the mystery, even if I am doomed to fail.' He asked some questions about his friend's funeral. It was to be at three o'clock on the following day, and Churchill was going back to London by an early train in order to attend as chief mourner. 'I shall be there,' said Maurice Clissold, and they parted with a friendly hand-shake. Clissold was touched by Mr. Penwyn's friendliness. That stigma of _non proven_ had not affected Churchill's opinion at any rate. He followed Matthew Elgood and his daughter into the street, and joined them as they walked slowly homeward, the girl's face half hidden by her veil. 'I want to have a talk with you, Mr. Elgood, if you've no objection,' said Maurice. 'Unless you consider me tainted by the suspicion that has hung over me for the last three days, and object to hold any intercourse with me.'