I knew I had done right to take him in that way, and to be quite frank with him. Had I shown the white feather at all, even by implication, he would have pounced down upon me. That I felt instinctively. Our eyes met sharply. During those brief moments something passed between us that revealed our true characters to each other. I had never really mistrusted Whichelo, though on that night we had dined together at the _Stag's Head_ in Oakham, his manner and his mode of speech had puzzled me a good deal. Now I instinctively knew him to be a man upon whom I could rely. "Tell me all you know," he said, in a low tone, glancing about him to make sure we were alone. At once I came to the point. "First, I know," I said slowly, "that the body was hidden in the ceiling. Secondly, I believe the old professor's theory which you have probably read in the newspapers, that the mummy has not really been dead very many years. Thirdly, I know that you and Thorold entered that house by way of the cellar of the house adjoining--and I don't mind telling you that it was I who frightened you and Thorold out of your lives by giving vent to that screech in the room above." "You!" he gasped, surprised. "Yes, but don't interrupt me," I said. "You and he brought the body to light and intended to smuggle it out of the house in a packing-case." I stopped. Then, with my eyes still set on his, I said-- "I saw those implements for coining, which afterwards disappeared. More than that--_I saw the bags of gold_!" Then I paused. "What has become of them?" I added meaningly. Whichelo held his breath. "By Heaven!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Then you know everything! How did you find this out?" I made a random shot. "If you will boldly advertise," I said, "what else can you expect? `_Meet me two_.'" My shot hit its mark. At once I saw that the advertisement really had reference to the affair. "Surely," I said, "there was no need to advertise? You could have communicated by post, telegram or telephone!" "Ah! you are mistaken," he answered quickly. "We had reasons for advertising--but I cannot explain them now. Tell me, knowing all that you know--how you discovered it I don't attempt to guess--but what are you going to do?" "Do?--Nothing. It's no concern of mine." "But--but--" "There is no `but,'" I interrupted, "except that, having told you what I know, Mr. Whichelo, I expect your full confidence in return." "And you shall have it, Ashton," he exclaimed at once. "Oh, I can assure you, you shall have it." "Then perhaps you'll tell me first," I said abruptly, "how that will of your brother's came to be found in the safe among the ruins of Chateau d'Uzerche after the fire. Had it not been found, you would, I understand, have been sole heir to the fortune your brother left to Frank Faulkner." "Yes, you are quite right," he answered, with a quiet laugh. "I should have been. That will was stolen from my brother." "So I guessed. But by whom?"