Pelham’s face flushed, but his eyes looked straight into Tarbot’s. “Perhaps you can answer that,” he replied; “but whatever the cause of death, I wish to have all the circumstances relating to the child’s last illness closely investigated.” “I do not know what more you can do. I signed the certificate. I am ready to abide by my decision. I certified that Piers Pelham died from aortic disease. My opinion was corroborated by Dr. Williamson and Sir Richard Spears. In what position are you that you place your opinion against three such authorities?” “I am in no position whatever, but still I hold my own thoughts, and I wish to have something done.” “What?” “To have the medicine which the boy last took analyzed.” “Talking of that,” said Tarbot, “don’t forget that you yourself gave that last dose of medicine to the boy. You went to fetch the bottle, you took the medicine to the child, he received it from your hands.” “True, but what of that?” “Much or little according to circumstances.” “I do not understand you,” said Pelham. “It matters little who gave the medicine to the child. I wish to have it analyzed. Nothing else will set my mind at rest. I have just been to Mrs. Pelham’s house for the purpose of securing the bottle, but I find that you forestalled me, and that you have the medicine in your own keeping.” “I have.” “What do you want it for?” “To have it analyzed.” “Then you agree with me?” said Dick eagerly. “I don’t agree with you, but because I am taking copious notes of Sir Piers Pelham’s death I wish to have the medicine analyzed.” “Can you do it?” “Yes.” “Will you do it now?” “No.” “What if I compel you?” “Compel me! My good fellow, you are talking nonsense.” Pelham was fast losing his self-control: he leaped forward and seized Tarbot by the arm. “Scoundrel!” he said. “Notwithstanding that certificate, I have my reasons for suspecting you. Analyze that medicine at once before my eyes, or, by heaven, I’ll have you in a court of justice.” “You must be mad, Pelham,” said Tarbot calmly. “I will analyze the medicine, certainly, but at my own good time and pleasure. Now leave the house. Your words are insulting. You forget yourself. Too great a portion of this world’s riches has overbalanced your brain. I have heard of such cases before. When you can exercise self-control I will speak to you again.” CHAPTER XX. THE PRICE OF HIS SIN.