Beatrice sank back in the chair and fixed her eyes fearfully on the man who thus accused Vivian of a terrible crime. "You say that to frighten me," she gasped. Major Ruck made no direct reply, but touched a bell. In response to its sound an old woman neatly dressed, but as evil-looking as the tramp, appeared. "Send Waterloo to me," said the Major. The old woman vanished, and Major Ruck strolled to the window, whistling, with his hands behind his back. Beatrice, grasping the arms of her chair with the perspiration beading her forehead, wondered what Waterloo had to do with the accusation. She remembered the tramp's hint, and fancied that perhaps after all he really knew the truth; but that the truth should place Vivian in the position of an assassin appeared too terrible for words. While she thus meditated and the Major whistled, Waterloo with his familiar leer appeared. In the presence of his master the old man--for he was very old, as Durban had said, in spite of his attempts to renew his youth--seemed meaner than ever, and very much afraid. "Yuss, Major," said Waterloo meekly. Ruck wheeled sharply. "Tell this young lady what you saw of Alpenny's murder," he commanded. "Why, lor' bless me, I sawr very little, sir," whined the tramp. "Tell what you did see, and how Vivian Paslow killed the man." "I don't believe it--I can't believe it!" muttered Beatrice, twisting her hands in agony. "Wait till you hear what Waterloo has to say," said Ruck grimly. "It wos this waiy, miss," said the tramp, addressing himself to the pale girl. "The Alpenny cove, he set me to watch you an' Mr. Paslow seein' as you loved one another." "And do still, in spite of all," murmured Beatrice, while the Major raised his eyebrows superciliously. "I wos awatchin' the pair of you on thet night," went on Waterloo in a cringing way, "and follered you, miss, to th' oak." "You were the man crouching near the gates of The Camp?" "Yuss, miss. I guessed you sawr me. I follered y'; and then wen Mr. Paslow sawr me, he follered me. He got 'old of me and kicked me, and I tuck out my knife to stab him. But he went away and back to the oak; I pulled myself together, and follered to knife him if I could. You had gone, miss, and Mr. Paslow he went to The Camp to see if you wos back, miss. I didn't keep quiet enough in the follering, and Mr. Paslow he caught me agin near The Camp and kicked me 'ard. I tried to use my knife," said Waterloo with a venomous look, "but he took it off me, and climbed over the big gates. I follered." "Why did Mr. Paslow enter The Camp?" questioned Beatrice. "To see if you wos back, miss," explained the tramp, while the Major smiled graciously. "I follered to git back me knife. I sawr the door of the counting-house open, an' the ole cove Alpenny come out hollering 'Thieves!' He was dressed in his hat an' cloak to go away----" "That," interpolated the Major, "will be explained later."