"Up to a certain point," I replied, "I know everything. Of the company you kept in Liverpool and elsewhere, of the way you spent your days and nights, of the gambling that was going on, of your accusing Maxwell that he cheated you at cards, of your being stabbed by him"--I stopped here. I had given them an inkling of what I did know, but had no intention of telling them what I did not know; so I branched off on another tack. "You are both aware that John Fordham is in prison for a murder he did not commit. Your presence alone in a criminal court will prove him to be innocent. But we do not need that to set him free; it can be accomplished without your aid. And for the rest--well, it is in your hands. I shall not give you long to decide." "My son was a victim," said Mrs. Fordham. "He is no murderer." "You can prove that to a judge and jury instead of to me, if you prefer it. I have a conveyance waiting for you. Be advised. Don't trifle with me." "You mentioned an alternative, but have not explained it." "Ah, you are growing sensible. I must have plain answers to plain questions, and a plain statement of facts." "May I speak privately to my son?" "I have no objection, but it must be in this room. We shall not let you out of our sight. You can talk in the corner there, and we will remain here by the door. If you speak low we shall not overhear you." She dragged Louis into the corner, and there they held a whispered conference. I did not seek to overhear them, but I saw that Louis, overcome by fear, was ready, even eager, to unbosom himself. Such opposition as was apparent to me came from her. She was the kind of woman that hates to give in--she and Madame Lourbet would have made a pretty pair--but in the end she allowed herself to be persuaded. "We will answer your questions, such as we think fit to be answered," she said, "under compulsion. Understand that--under compulsion." I shook my head and smiled. "That will not do. You will answer all my questions of your own free will, or you will answer none; and your desire is to assist the course of justice." She shut her mouth with a snap, and I think she would have liked to bite me. "If you don't answer," cried Louis, "I will." "Put your questions," she said, frowning at him and us. "You wish me to do so?" I asked, knowing I had her in my power, and she was forced to answer, "Yes." She did not exactly love me at that moment. I pointed to the litter of clothing and open trunks. "You are packing up to go away?" "Yes--we have a right to go where we please." "To Paris?" "Yes." "And from there?" "It is not decided." "It was your intention to travel by the night train?" "Yes." "Who was to go with you?" "A friend." "He is not a friend," Louis exclaimed, "I don't care for your dark looks, mother; I will speak! He has never been my friend. Didn't he rob me--didn't he nearly murder me? And you stand up for him because--because----" "Hold your tongue!" she cried.