"Yes. Inadvertently, as you see, he has committed a horrible crime; he can never recall it. Whatever his remorse or shame, nothing will ever restore the victim of his folly to life, while he himself has many days before him--days which would be ruined if his part in this tragedy were known. Shall he confess to it, then, or shall he fly (the way is so easy), and leave it to fate to play his game--fate, whose well-known kindness to fools would surely favor him? It does not take long for such thoughts to pass through a man's head, and before the dying cry of his innocent victim had ceased to echo through those galleries, he is behind the tapestry and on his way toward the court. Beyond that, my dream does not go. How about yours, sir?" "My dream was of a crime, not of an accident. No man could be such a fool as you have made out this X of yours to be. Only an extraordinary purpose or some imperious necessity could drive a man to shoot an arrow across an open court where people were passing hither and yon, even if he didn't see anyone in the gallery." "By which you mean----" "That he had already marked the approach of his victim and was ready with his weapon." "You are undoubtedly right, and I only wish to say this: that the purpose in my relation was merely to show the method and manner of this shooting, leaving _you_ to put on the emphasis of crime if you saw fit." The gravity with which Mr. Gryce received this suggestion had the effect of slightly embarrassing Sweetwater. Yet he presently ventured to add after a moment of respectful waiting: "Did you know that after I woke from my dream I had a moment's doubt as to its accuracy on one point? The bow was undoubtedly flung behind the curtain, but the man----" He paused abruptly. A morsel of clean white paper had just been pushed across the table under his eyes, and a peremptory voice was saying: "Write me his name. I will do the same for you." XIV A LOOP OF SILK Sweetwater hesitated. "I am very fond of the one of your own choosing," he smiled, "but if you insist----" Mr. Gryce was already writing. In another moment the two slips were passed in exchange across the table. Instantly, a simultaneous exclamation left the lips of both. Each read a name he was in no wise prepared to see. They had been following diverging lines instead of parallel ones; and it took some few minutes for them to adjust themselves to this new condition. Then Mr. Gryce spoke: "What led you into loading up Correy with an act which to accept as true would oblige us to deny every premise we have been at such pains to establish?" "Because--and I hope you will pardon me, Mr. Gryce, since our conclusions are so different--I found it easier to attribute this deed of folly--or crime, if we can prove it such--to a man young in years than to one old enough to know better." "Very good; that is undoubtedly an excellent reason."