“I found her and the dog--you heard how Kara terrified her--and I killed the dog with my own hands,” she said a little proudly, and then shivered. “It was very beastly,” she admitted. “And she's been living with you all this time and you've said nothing!” asked T. X., incredulously. Belinda Mary nodded. “And that is why you didn't want me to know where you were living?” She nodded again. “You see she was very ill,” she said, “and I had to nurse her up, and of course I knew that it was Lexman who had killed Kara and I couldn't tell you about Grace Lexman without betraying him. So when Mr. Lexman decided to tell his story, I thought I'd better supply the grand denouement.” The men looked at one another. “What are you going to do about Lexman?” asked the Chief Commissioner, “and, by the way, T. X., how does all this fit your theories!” “Fairly well,” replied T. X. coolly; “obviously the man who committed the murder was the man introduced into the room as Gathercole and as obviously it was not Gathercole, although to all appearance, he had lost his left arm.” “Why obvious?” asked the Chief Commissioner. “Because,” answered T. X. Meredith, “the real Gathercole had lost his right arm--that was the one error Lexman made.” “H'm,” the Chief pulled at his moustache and looked enquiringly round the room, “we have to make up our minds very quickly about Lexman,” he said. “What do you think, Carlneau?” The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. “For my part I should not only importune your Home Secretary to pardon him, but I should recommend him for a pension,” he said flippantly. “What do you think, Savorsky?” The Russian smiled a little. “It is a very impressive story,” he said dispassionately; “it occurs to me that if you intend bringing your M. Lexman to judgment you are likely to expose some very pretty scandals. Incidentally,” he said, stroking his trim little moustache, “I might remark that any exposure which drew attention to the lawless conditions of Albania would not be regarded by my government with favour.” The Chief Commissioner's eyes twinkled and he nodded. “That is also my view,” said the Chief of the Italian bureau; “naturally we are greatly interested in all that happens on the Adriatic littoral. It seems to me that Kara has come to a very merciful end and I am not inclined to regard a prosecution of Mr. Lexman with equanimity.” “Well, I guess the political aspect of the case doesn't affect us very much,” said O'Grady, “but as one who was once mighty near asphyxiated by stirring up the wrong kind of mud, I should leave the matter where it is.” The Chief Commissioner was deep in thought and Belinda Mary eyed him anxiously. “Tell them to come in,” he said bluntly. The girl went and brought John Lexman and his wife, and they came in hand in hand supremely and serenely happy whatever the future might hold for them. The Chief Commissioner cleared his throat.