"It won't do alone," he said, "but it will help. Let's have a look at this--document." When he had read it he whistled gently. "Oh, ho! an alibi. Now I've got her!" he exclaimed. But had he? He carefully re-read the letter. It was a plausible enough letter, and conclusive, unless he was prepared to charge Mrs. Witt with deeper schemes and more dangerous accomplishments than he had yet thought of doing. Men are mistaken sometimes, said a voice within him; but he would not listen. "I'll look at that again to-morrow," he said, "and find out who 'Susan Horne' is." Then he read his letters, and cursed his luck, and went to bed a miserable man. The presentment of truth, not the inculcation of morality, being the end of art, it is worth while to remark that he went to bed a miserable man simply and solely because he had tried to do his duty. CHAPTER VI. A SUCCESSFUL ORDEAL. The general opinion was that Gerald Neston behaved foolishly in allowing himself to be interviewed by the _Bull's-eye_. Indeed, it is rather odd, when we consider the almost universal disapproval of the practice of interviewing, to see how frequent interviews are. _Damnantur et crescunt_; and mankind agrees to excuse its own weakness by postulating irresistible ingenuity and audacity in the interviewer. So Gerald was publicly blamed and privately blessed for telling the _Bull's-eye_ that an atrocious accusation had been brought against the lady referred to, and brought by one who should have been the last to bring it, and would, he hoped, be the first to withdraw it. The accusation did seriously concern the lady's character, and nothing but the fullest apology could be accepted. He preferred not to go into details at present; indeed, he hoped it would never be necessary to do so. Such might be Gerald's hope. It was not the hope of the _Bull's-eye_, nor, indeed, of society in general. What could be more ill-advised than to hint dreadful things and refuse full information? Such a course simply left the imagination to wander, fancy free, through the Newgate Calendar, attributing to Mrs. Witt--the name of the slandered lady was by this time public property--all or any of the actions therein recorded. "It's like a blank bill," said Charters, the commercial lawyer, to Mr. Blodwell; "you fill it up for as much as the stamp will cover." "The more gossiping fool you," replied Mr. Blodwell, very rudely, and quite unjustifiably, for the poor man merely meant to indicate a natural tendency, not to declare his own idea of what was proper. But Mr. Blodwell was cross; everybody had made fools of themselves, he thought, and he was hanged--at least hanged--if he saw his way out of it.