"I understand." Lane shook hands with her warmly. "Will you please telephone me how Cynthia is. I'll be at the Army and Navy Club all day. Good morning." He bowed formally to the coroner and Douglas, then turned to leave the room, only to find his exit barred by Brett. "It is my duty to inform you, Captain Lane, that a warrant has been sworn out for your arrest," he announced, taking a paper from his pocket. Lane stepped back involuntarily. "What do you mean?" he stammered. "In the name of the law I arrest you for the murder of Senator Carew." Brett ceased speaking and signaled to several men who were sitting in the hall to enter the room. It was some seconds before Lane broke the strained silence. "Stand back!" he growled between clenched teeth, as the two detectives approached him. "I'll go with you peaceably. Let me tell you, Brett," glaring defiantly at him, "you'll live to regret this day's work! Who swore out that warrant?" "Mrs. Winthrop." Lane gazed at him in dazed surprise. "Mrs. Winthrop!" he mumbled. "Mrs. Winthrop!" CHAPTER XIX THE ACCUSATION Eleanor dropped her embroidery and gazed out into the garden, with its flower-beds lit by the fading rays of the Western sun and the soft wind from the open window fanned her cheeks. An involuntary sigh escaped her. "A penny for your thoughts," and Douglas, who had approached unnoticed, stepped up to the raised window-seat. A loving smile curved Eleanor's pretty mouth as she made room for him beside her and slipped her hand confidingly in his. "Do you think a penny would bring me any comfort?" she asked. "Take me for a penny, and I will do my utmost to comfort you." Douglas kissed her gently as she leaned her head against his broad shoulder. "Take you--gladly!" She raised her hand and pressed it against his cheek. "And I am richer in happiness than I ever was before." "My darling!" Douglas checked his impetuosity; the dark circles under Eleanor's eyes had deepened and her extreme nervousness was betrayed by her restless glances about the room and the incessant movement of her fingers. "Now for your thoughts." "My thoughts? They are all with Cynthia. Oh, Douglas!"--straightening up,--"I can't tell her of Fred Lane's arrest; on top of all she has borne it would be cruel, cruel!" "Is she better?" "She is at last sleeping naturally. When she awoke from the opiate, some hours ago, she evinced no interest, and so I was able to avoid the questions which I feared she would ask me." "She was probably still under the effects of the opiate and too drowsy to recall the events of last night." "I dread her awakening." "You will have to put off telling her of Lane's arrest and Annette's death until she is strong enough physically to bear the shock." "Do you think him guilty?" The question seemed wrung from her. "Of which crime?" "Of both."