The ghost of a smile flickered across the lawyer's thin lips. "I am not at liberty to divulge his identity," he answered. "I am, however, fully empowered to act for him." Wrayson shrugged his shoulders. "He may find it necessary to disclose it, and before very long," he remarked. "Well, go on." Mr. Bentham discreetly ignored the covert threat in Wrayson's words. "My mission to you, Mr. Wrayson," he declared, "is a somewhat delicate one. It is not, in fact, connected with the actual--tragedy to which you have alluded. My commission is to regain possession of a paper which was stolen either from the person of Morris Barnes or from amongst his effects, on that night." Wrayson looked up eagerly. "The motive at last!" he exclaimed. "What was the nature of this paper, sir?" Mr. Bentham's eyebrows were slowly raised. "That," he said, "we need not enter into for the moment. The matter of business between you and myself, or rather my client, is this. I am authorized to offer a thousand pounds reward for its recovery." Wrayson was impressed, although the other's manner left him a little puzzled. "Why not offer the reward for the discovery of the murderer?" he asked. "It would come, I presume, to the same thing." "By no means," the lawyer answered dryly. "I am afraid that I have not expressed myself well. My client cares nothing for Morris Barnes, dead or alive. His interest begins and ends with the recovery of that paper." "But isn't it almost certain," Wrayson persisted, "that the thief and the murderer are the same person? Your client ought to have come forward at the inquest. The thing which has chiefly troubled the police in dealing with this matter is the apparent lack of motive." "My client is not actuated in any way by philanthropic motives," Mr. Bentham said coldly. "To tell you the truth, he does not care whether the murderer of Morris Barnes is brought to justice or not. He is only anxious to recover possession of the document of which I have spoken." "If he has a legal claim to it," Wrayson said, "he had better offer his reward openly. He would probably help himself then, and also those who are anxious to have this mystery solved." "Are you amongst those, Mr. Wrayson?" his visitor asked quietly. Wrayson started slightly, but he retained his self-composure. "I am very much amongst them," he answered. "My connection with the affair was an extremely unpleasant one, and it will remain so until the murderer of Morris Barnes is brought to book." "Or murderess," Mr. Bentham murmured softly. Wrayson reeled in his chair as though he had been struck a violent and unexpected blow. He understood now the guarded menace of his visitor's manner. He felt the man's eyes taking merciless note of his whitening cheeks. "My client," the lawyer continued, "desires to ask no questions. All that he wants is the document to which he is entitled, and which was stolen on the night when Mr. Morris Barnes met with his unfortunate accident."