"He was murdered," asserted Doctor Trubie, getting his teeth, "foully murdered by the man who professed to be his friend,--a man who wrote a hand as much like this Doctor Remy's as one side of your face is like the other. I charged him with it, at the time, and I have always believed that I should live to see the charge proven." And he finished by giving a succinct account of the circumstances attending Alec Arling's death. Bergan listened attentively and critically, as became his legal training. "I do not understand why the finding of the diamond was such conclusive evidence of guilt," said he, when the doctor paused. "Because Roath swore, at the inquest, that he did not touch either bottle or glass, and did not even go to that end of the table. That was where he overreached himself; without that, the stone in the glass would not have been such a damning circumstance. He recognized it as such himself;--else why did he fly?" "Well, you may be right about the murder," said Bergan, after a little consideration, "but I think you have mistaken the man." "Let us see," said Doctor Trubie. "He is about my height?" "Yes,--perhaps a little taller." "He stoops a little?" "Not at all, he is uncommonly erect." "He has dark hair?" "It may have been so, it is prematurely gray." Doctor Trubie looked a little discomfited. "Give me a sketch of his character," said he. Bergan hesitated. It was a difficult thing to do, on the instant. His impressions of Doctor Remy's character had varied, as he remembered. "On second thought," said Doctor Trubie, "I will give you one. All of him, that is not intellect, is ice. In religious matters, he is an utter sceptic. Socially, he is brilliant; but he has no intimate friends, and he makes no confidants. Men and women, to him, are subjects of study, not objects of affection. He cares for nothing but himself and his profession. And no one cares for him--much. They may admire, but they cannot love." Bergan looked considerably startled. "Your sketch tallies well with some impressions of mine, which I did my best to rid myself of," said he. "But Doctor Remy has befriended me, from the first, and you yourself say that he has been largely the means of saving my mother's life." "He has had his own reasons for both; Edmund Roath never did anything without a reason, and a selfish one. Has he anything to gain by keeping you out of the way?" "Nothing, that I can imagine." "When do you return to Berganton?" "Mother has consented that I shall start on Monday, if she is no worse." "She will be much better. Do not delay longer than that. I will accompany you; I want to see this Doctor Remy. Seeing is believing. But, mind, not a word of my coming, to him or any one else. Now, go back to your mother, or she will be alarmed. Good night."