“On the contrary, if you don’t take care, you’ll hang him, although he hasn’t killed Mr. Edwin even once. If they were to put you into the witness-box, and you were to tell that tale, your evidence would need but the slenderest corroboration to send him to the gallows right away.” “Mr. Ferguson!” “Morley, you must know that you had not the slightest right to tell me what you have done. Fortunately your information has been imparted to a person who will not make an injurious use of it; but, if you take my serious advice, you will not breathe a word of it to any other living soul. You will go straight home, and you will say nothing to any one; and you will know nothing either.” “But--but where is Mr. Philip, sir?” “What business is that of yours? I take it that he is free to regulate his movements without consulting you. Whatever concern you may feel, you will not allow a hint of it to escape you--that is, if you have your master’s interests at heart!” There came an imperious rapping at the door. “Who’s there?” “It’s I--Inspector Symonds, of the Criminal Investigation Department. Be so good, Mr. Ferguson, as to open the door.” “There, Morley, is some one who will be glad to listen to what you have been telling me, but if you have the least regard for your master’s reputation, not to mention his neck, you will see him further first. You’re not forced to speak a word unless you choose; I shouldn’t choose; and here’s something to help you not to choose.” I handed him a wine-glass full of brandy. He swallowed it so fast that it set him coughing. There came the knocking at the door again. “Open this door, Mr. Ferguson!” “With pleasure. You seem to be in a hurry, sir. Possibly you are not aware that these rooms are private, and that it is not necessary that I should open to every person who takes it into his head to knock.” As, opening the door, I planted myself in the doorway, Mr. Symonds looked at me as if surprised. He was not a little man, but I was a good head taller, and I fancy that he had not expected to find me quite so big, or he would have hustled past me. As it was, he refrained. “I am informed that you have some one in your rooms who can give important information in the matter of Mr. Edwin Lawrence’s murder.” “Indeed. Who is your informant?” “I am. You will find, Ferguson, that you cannot play with edged tools.” Hume was the speaker. “So? Pray enter, Mr. Symonds.” Hume tried to pass in after him. “If you don’t mind, I would rather not. I think that edged tools are better outside.” I shut the door in his face; he taking my cavalier treatment of him more meekly than he was wont to do. Perhaps he remembered. Mr. Symonds immediately assailed the lamblike Mr. Morley. “I believe that your name is Morley; and that you are in the service of Mr. Philip Lawrence. What information have you to give with reference to the murder of his brother?” “Mr. Morley has no information to give.” It was I who answered.