"No need to be. We've been long in the service, you and me--boys together, weren't we?--and we can take credit for keeping one thing steady before us. Duty. The case, you see, doesn't hang only on what took place in Bournemouth last Thursday night; it hangs quite as much upon what took place in Catchpole Square the Friday before. A man is accountable for his actions, and if there's a mystery that's got to be cleared up, as this has got to be, and Mr. Reginald Boyd is concerned in it--which there's no denying--the law calls upon him to explain his actions." "There's many a man held responsible and accountable for what, in the absence of witnesses, he finds it out of his power to explain, and which, in the nature of the circumstances, he couldn't reasonably be expected to explain. But that doesn't prove him guilty." "I don't say it does. The hardship to that man is that the law is the law, and, in the absence of an explanation that can be proved to be true, refuses to be satisfied. 'Guilty or not guilty?' says the law. 'Not guilty,' says the man. Does the law accept it? No. It proceeds to open the case. Robson, you've my best wishes, and I hope you and yours will come well through it. Let us leave it there. We've had a comfortable chat; let us leave it there." "Very well," said Inspector Robson, rather stiffly, "we'll leave it there. If any charge is brought against my son-in-law he will be ready to meet it. I pledge you my word that he'll not run away. Perhaps, if any decided step is resolved upon you will give me timely notice, for old friendship's sake, in return for my promise that you will meet with no obstruction in the performance of your duty. It will help me to soften the shock to my dear daughter--our only child, Lambert, the sweetest girl!"---- He turned his head, to hide his emotion. Lambert pressed his hand, and said, "You shall be the first to hear of it, Robson. Cheer up. Things mayn't be so bad as some people suspect." Inspector Robson nodded and left him, and rejoined his family in the house. Aunt Rob had seen him talking to the detective from the window, and had been so successful in instilling courage into Florence and Reginald that cheerful faces greeted his entrance; the cloud left his own at this unexpectedly bright reception. "We've been talking about things, father," said Aunt Rob in a brisk voice, "and have made up our minds not to mope and mourn because a bit of trouble seems to be coming on us. If it passes all the better, but if we've got to fight it we'll fight it bravely." "Bravo, mother," said Uncle Rob, "that's the right spirit to show. Here's my hand, Reginald." "And here's mine," said Aunt Rob, "with my heart in it." "Thank you both," said Reginald. "I can bear anything rather than that you should doubt me."