"Yes, I know it. I have no opinion to express." Fleming Stone rather admired this gentleman of the old school, whose courtesy was evident, but equally so his determination to say only what justice demanded of his profession. And then, like a flash, the reason came to him. Doctor Stanton suspected, or at least feared to suspect some member of the Carrington household. Of course, this was not a new idea to Fleming Stone. He had mentally gone over the possibility of every one in the family and all of the servants at Garden Steps, but so far he had held his mind open for impressions rather than to formulate theories himself. "Then, to sum up, doctor," he said, as he rose to go, "you assure me that you consider it out of the question that Miss Carrington took the aconitine herself, say, as a headache cure, or something, intending only a small curative dose?" "Absolutely impossible, sir," exclaimed the old gentleman, almost angrily; "to begin with, Miss Carrington never had headaches, and if she had she would have borne any amount of suffering from them before she would have touched a drug or a medicinal remedy of any sort. And, aside from all that, how could she get aconitine? It is not to be bought for the asking at any druggist's! No, sir, my conscience makes me insist on that point, Miss Carrington never took that poison knowingly,--either by accident or design. It was given to her, without her knowledge, by a very, very clever villain." "Again, then, could it have been given her innocently, by mistake? I mean, if some one, her maid, or any friend, had wanted to give her a sedative, and meant only a light dose, but by error in quantity----" "No, sir! Not a chance! The amount given was too great to be an error. And every one in that house knows better than ever to have attempted to give medicine in any form or degree or for any purpose to Miss Lucy Carrington." "It was crime, then," said Fleming Stone, "black crime. And as such, it must be discovered and punished." "Yes," agreed Doctor Stanton, but he spoke with deep sadness and as one who feared where or toward whom such discoveries might lead. From the doctor's house Stone went to see the Count. That elegant gentleman was highly irate at being detained against his will in such plain quarters as The Tombs furnished, but he was not as belligerent or vindictive as Stone expected to find him. Hasty work on the part of the detectives from the District Attorney's office had resulted in his imprisonment, but the later development of Bates' share in the matter made it extremely probable that the Count might soon be released from custody. Pleasantly enough the two men conversed, and Count Charlier gave the impression of one glad of help from an outside source. "It is such absurdity," he declared, "to think I would in any way wish harm to the lady. Why, I admired her above all, and it was my hope that she would do me the honor to accept my hand."