Bryan Duval rose, walked slowly up and down the room twice, and then returned to Miss Montressor's side. His face was very pale, and his voice sounded hoarsely, as he said to her: 'There is far more than ordinary villany in this atrocious murder, and perhaps the only way by which it can be exposed rests with you and with me. I think you will be discreet, and if it be necessary to ask you to take any part in this terrible matter, I think you will consent to do so, and to act under orders.' 'Certainly,' replied Miss Montressor, looking considerably frightened. 'I wish you would explain what you mean, and what part in it can possibly fall to me.' 'I will explain,' said Bryan Duval. 'I fear I shall soon have to violate a dead man's confidence more extensively than by telling the story to you. Foster took, as you know, a great fancy to me, and even before that day when we went down to Richmond he had told me a great deal about himself; but his confidences with me took a different form from those in which he indulged on that day with you--they chiefly related to business matters. He told me what was the object of his journey to London--with which I need not trouble you, it has no immediate bearing on the case: he told me how unexpectedly and rapidly successful he had been in the accomplishment of that object, and that he had good hopes of being able to return to New York at a much earlier date than that fixed at his departure. I remember that he did say he hadn't as yet announced to his wife that such a prospect had opened up to him, preferring to make quite sure rather than run the risk of keeping her in suspense, which might possibly end in disappointment. The details were rather complicated, and it struck me at the time that there was a good deal, not only of fair business competition, but of equivocal manoeuvring to be apprehended in the carrying through of the enterprise. That it was by no means smooth sailing for Foster was particularly borne in upon me by one fact, which he communicated to me in the strictest confidence, now unhappily dispersed. It was this'--Bryan Duval now spoke in a whisper, and with great intentness--'he had come to England under a false name.' Miss Montressor looked up wonderingly. 'Under a false name?' she repeated. 'His name was not Foster? What was it, then?' 'I do not know,' returned Bryan Duval. 'But an awful surmise as to what it might have been came to me with your first words, when this horrid news was conveyed to us just now.' 'I don't understand you,' said Miss Montressor, with a somewhat confused and wondering look. She had not caught at the chain of probabilities which had presented itself to Bryan Duval. 'I have a horrible conviction,' said he, 'that Foster's name really was Griswold.' 'My God,' exclaimed Miss Montressor, moved to the exclamation by more feelings than the one which could be easily interpreted by her hearer, 'can it be?'