He lifted the drawer carefully and placed it under the light. In the bottom was no more than a few crumpled white ashes and a blister of paint where the flame had caught the side. “I see,” said T. X. slowly. He saw something more than that handful of ashes, he saw the deadly peril in which his friend was standing. Here was one half of the evidence in Lexman's favour gone, irredeemably. “The letter was written on a paper which was specially prepared by a chemical process which disintegrated the moment the paper was exposed to the air. Probably if you delayed putting the letter in the drawer another five minutes, you would have seen it burn before your eyes. As it was, it was smouldering before you had turned the key of the box. The envelope!” “Kara burnt it,” said Lexman in a low voice, “I remember seeing him take it up from the table and throw it in the fire.” T. X. nodded. “There remains the other half of the evidence,” he said grimly, and when an hour later, the village constable returned to report that in spite of his most careful search he had failed to discover the dead man's revolver, his anticipations were realized. The next morning John Lexman was lodged in Lewes gaol on a charge of wilful murder. A telegram brought Mansus from London to Beston Tracey, and T. X. received him in the library. “I sent for you, Mansus, because I suffer from the illusion that you have more brains than most of the people in my department, and that's not saying much.” “I am very grateful to you, sir, for putting me right with Commissioner,” began Mansus, but T. X. stopped him. “It is the duty of every head of departments,” he said oracularly, “to shield the incompetence of his subordinates. It is only by the adoption of some such method that the decencies of the public life can be observed. Now get down to this.” He gave a sketch of the case from start to finish in as brief a space of time as possible. “The evidence against Mr. Lexman is very heavy,” he said. “He borrowed money from this man, and on the man's body were found particulars of the very Promissory Note which Lexman signed. Why he should have brought it with him, I cannot say. Anyhow I doubt very much whether Mr. Lexman will get a jury to accept his version. Our only chance is to find the Greek's revolver--I don't think there's any very great chance, but if we are to be successful we must make a search at once.” Before he went out he had an interview with Grace. The dark shadows under her eyes told of a sleepless night. She was unusually pale and surprisingly calm. “I think there are one or two things I ought to tell you,” she said, as she led the way into the drawing room, closing the door behind him. “And they concern Mr. Kara, I think,” said T. X. She looked at him startled. “How did you know that?” “I know nothing.” He hesitated on the brink of a flippant claim of omniscience, but realizing in time the agony she must be suffering he checked his natural desire.