"Well," he said, "I've only just had time to glance at them, but I should say that they affect Miss Wickham in a very surprising fashion, and I shall be glad to hand them over to her solicitors as soon as they come for them. They're birth certificates, burial certificates, marriage certificates, and a complete memorandum of a certain case, evidently written out with great care by Ashton himself. And of course, knowing what I do now, it's very clear to me how Ashton's murder came about. Cortelyon knew that if Ashton was out of the way, and he himself in possession of the papers, he could use some, suppress others, and foist off an accomplice of his own as claimant to a title which, from what I've seen, appears without doubt to belong to--" Drillford was again glancing at Miss Wickham, but Viner contrived to stop any further revelations and got to his feet. "Extraordinary!" he said. "But--my aunt? Where is she?" "She remained here until we'd safely caged the birds," answered Drillford. "Then she said she'd go home. And I suppose you'll find her there." Viner took his companion away from the police-station in silence. But at the end of the street Miss Wickham looked back. "Are those three people really locked up--in cells--close by where we were sitting with the inspector?" she asked. "Just so," answered Viner. "And will they all be hanged?" she whispered. "I sincerely hope one will!" exclaimed Viner. "What," she inquired, "did the inspector mean about the papers found on Dr. Cortelyon? I have some uneasy feeling that--" "I think you 'd better wait," said Viner. "There'll have to be some queer explanations. We must let Mr. Pawle and Mr. Carless know of what's happened--they're the proper people to deal with this affair." And then, as they turned into Markendale Square, they saw Mr. Pawle and Mr. Carless, who, with Lord Ellingham, were hurrying from Miss Wickham's house in the direction of Viner's. Mr. Carless quickened his pace and came toward them. "I was so upset when I heard from Perkwite that Miss Wickham has been in that house in Whitechapel," he said, "that, on learning she'd gone off with you, Viner, Lord Ellingham and I drove to Pawle's and brought him on here to learn if she'd got home and what had happened." "What had happened?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "What is it, Viner?" Viner gathered them round him with a look. "This has happened!" he said. "The whole thing's solved. Ashton's murderer is found, and he and his accomplices are under lock and key. Listen, and I'll tell you all that's been done since one o'clock, up here--while we've been at the other end of the town. But I'll only give you an outline. Well, then--" The three men listened in dead silence until Viner had repeated Drillford's story; then Mr. Pawle glanced round at the window of Viner's house. "Miss Penkridge, by all that's wonderful!" he said in a deep voice. "Most extraordinary! Where is she?" "At home, I should imagine," answered Viner with a laugh.