"Rudolph is here," whispered the widow. "Let me question him. I know how to make him speak out." Ellis nodded, and when ushered into the sitting-room was sufficiently composed to meet Zirknitz with a smile. The Austrian looked an Adonis in the daytime, and was admirably dressed in a smart frock-coat, fawn-coloured trousers, and patent leather boots of high polish. He was a modern D'Orsay in looks and dress--just the handsome kind of scamp to attract silly women. Ellis had no doubt that one day or another Monsieur Rudolph would pick up an heiress, and become respectable. The young man was shallow and selfish, yet--if one could judge by his smiling face--harmless enough in other ways. "I am delighted to see you, doctor," said the Austrian, blandly. "You must forgive me for leaving you so abruptly the other night. But you were beginning to ask me indiscreet questions, so I--vanished." "Rudolph always considers himself first," observed Mrs. Moxton, who was making tea. "He is the most selfish creature in existence." "The most selfish!" assented Zirknitz. "I think of no one by myself. Why should I? _Quelle bêtise_." "Every man should think of others!" said Ellis, hardly knowing what to say in the face of this cool confession. "Oh, _mon cher_ monsieur, that doctrine is out of date. Thank you, Laura. I will have some tea. Three sugar bits, my dear. I love sweets, and sunshine, and pretty girls--as a butterfly should." Mrs. Moxton looked at the pretty youth with something of contempt. "You need not blazon forth your follies, Rudolph. I know what you are; and Dr. Ellis will soon find you out. What is this story you have been telling him about me?" "Story? None! What is it, monsieur? _Point de moquerie!_" "You accuse Busham of this murder!" "Ah, yes, now I remember; and I refused to tell you my reasons until permitted by my sister. Have I your consent, _ma chère_ Laura?" "Tell everything you know," cried Mrs. Moxton, with a frown. "Why you should bring my name into the matter I don't know. There is no need for you to explain, Rudolph; you will only romance. Why do you suspect Busham?" Zirknitz looked at Ellis. "Can I speak freely?" he asked doubtfully. "Certainly. The doctor is my best friend." "Ah! so charming to have a best friend. Hear, then, monsieur, and you, my dear Laura. When I was at Dukesfield on the night Edgar was killed--" "Why," said Ellis, with something of anger in his tones, "you told me you were not at Dukesfield on that night." Zirknitz shrugged his handsome shoulders. "I told a lie! Oh, yes, I always tell a lie when necessary. I did not know Laura wished me to speak, so I told what was not true. What would you, monsieur? Your questions were indiscreet. My answers were false. _Voila!_" "Never mind excusing yourself, Rudolph. What about Mr. Busham?" "Eh, my dear sister, I believe he killed our poor Moxton! Why not? I saw the excellent Busham in Dukesfield on the night of the death."