What happened on the night of the murder, was very much as my friend had reconstructed it. Ellenby, reaching the office at his usual time the next morning, had found Hepworth waiting for him. There he had remained in hiding until one morning, with dyed hair and a slight moustache, he had ventured forth. Had the man's death been brought about by any other means, Ellenby would have counselled his coming forward and facing his trial, as he himself was anxious to do; but, viewed in conjunction with the relief the man's death must have been to both of them, that loaded revolver was too suggestive of premeditation. The isolation of the house, that conveniently near pond, would look as if thought of beforehand. Even if pleading extreme provocation, Michael escaped the rope, a long term of penal servitude would be inevitable. Nor was it certain that even then the woman would go free. The murdered man would still, by a strange freak, be her husband; the murderer--in the eye of the law--her lover. Her passionate will had prevailed. Young Hepworth had sailed for America. There he had no difficulty in obtaining employment--of course, under another name--in an architects office; and later had set up for himself. Since the night of the murder they had not seen each other till some three weeks ago. * * * I never saw the woman again. My friend, I believe, called on her. Hepworth had already returned to America, and my friend had succeeded in obtaining for her some sort of a police permit that practically left her free. Sometimes of an evening I find myself passing through the street. And always I have the feeling of having blundered into an empty theatre--where the play is ended. HIS EVENING OUT. The evidence of the park-keeper, David Bristow, of Gilder Street, Camden Town, is as follows: I was on duty in St. James's Park on Thursday evening, my sphere extending from the Mall to the northern shore of the ornamental water east of the suspension bridge. At five-and-twenty to seven I took up a position between the peninsula and the bridge to await my colleague. He ought to have relieved me at half-past six, but did not arrive until a few minutes before seven, owing, so he explained, to the breaking down of his motor-'bus--which may have been true or may not, as the saying is.