Immediately on the doctor's return, Cass showed him the pocket-book, and repeated Janet's story. Ellis, naturally enough, was as surprised as his friend, and discussed the matter with him at length. Finally, it was decided that Ellis should see Schwartz that same evening, and hear what he had to say for himself. Owing to the exigencies of his profession as critic, Harry could not accompany his friend. The doctor was not sorry, as he thought that he could get more out of Schwartz when alone with him than in the presence of a third person. He did not take the pocket-book with him lest it should be lost, for Schwartz was a determined man to deal with. As yet Ellis could hardly credit that he was guilty, and in spite of the damning evidence found by Janet he postponed, making up his mind until he heard what the German had to say for himself. In this frame of mind he started for the Merryman Music-Hail. Schwartz was in his private room, and as Ellis had purposely arrived rather late he was at leisure at the time. So effusively did he welcome Ellis that the doctor felt almost ashamed of his errand, but, bracing himself up with the idea that Schwartz, if not the actual criminal, yet knew something about the crime, he managed to appear sufficiently stern. To the German's eager inquiries about Hilda's health and Hilda's eyesight he gave brief and monosyllabic replies. At last Schwartz was forced to take notice of his visitor's unfriendly attitude. "What is not right, doctor?" he asked anxiously. Ellis glanced round to see that the door was closed, and cleared his throat. "Mr. Schwartz," he said in low tones, "I have come to see you about a very unpleasant business." The German turned paler even than he was, and his hand shook as he tried to light a cigar. "Ach! Is dat zo?" "It is about Moxton's murder." "Veil, veil, what apout ze murder?" queried Schwartz, impatiently. "I should rather put that question to you, Schwartz. Why was Moxton murdered--or rather, why was he got out of the way?" Instead of answering his question, Schwartz, in a tremor of nervous excitement, rose and locked the door. "Can you speak German?" he asked, in his own tongue, on returning to his seat. "A little. I can speak it slowly." "Then put your questions in that language," said Schwartz, savagely. "I can see that you have come to accuse me of being mixed up in this crime. Was it for this purpose that you called at my house?" "You forget. I called, at your request, to see Miss Garret." Schwartz sighed. "Ach! the liddle Hilda," he said in English; then slipping back into his own tongue, he demanded what Ellis wished to know. "I wish to know if you can tell me the reason Moxton was murdered?" said Ellis, slowly, in German. "No, I cannot. I know nothing about it." "Then I must tell you--that is, I must refresh your memory. Moxton was murdered by a man who wished to obtain possession of a forged bill."