"Then your meddling has brought the police into the matter. That telegram may have been sent by a friend or an enemy; in either case it is true, for all is discovered. I was----" Curberry gasped with pain again, and moistened his dry lips. "I was sitting with it, wondering if it was best to end things or to wait and see if the warning was a true one. Then she came in through yonder door," he nodded towards the entrance from the terrace into the library. "She told me that you--that you--oh--oh!" he groaned, and rocked himself from side to side, yet kept a grip on the revolver, lest Dan should call or ring for assistance, or endeavor to secure the weapon. "So you took the poison?" said Halliday, wondering how he could manage to evade being shot and summon a doctor. "When she said that all was known, I did. Then she--she----" "Queen Beelzebub you mean?" "Curse her, yes. Like Eve, she tempted me, and, like Adam, I fell." "Where is she?" "Up in Penn's old rooms, searching for any further confession he may have left. Oh," Curberry rocked and moaned, "I thought when I snatched it from you, and burnt it, that all evidence was destroyed." "I saved a few sheets." "Do they contain mention of my name?" "Yes; they do, and----" "I thought so. I thought so. It's just as well that I took poison. The title and money I paid such a price to obtain will go to my cousin, who is at Oxford--a young fool with no brains. Oh, to lose all when everything was so bright. I could have married Lillian and served my country, and----" "You could not have married Lillian," interrupted Dan, positively, "for she loves me and me only. As to serving your country, how could you, with an easy conscience, when you have broken its law by taking the lives of your uncle and cousin?" "I did not. The society saw to that," gasped Curberry with a twisted grin. "You engaged the society to end their lives, you--you--murderer." "Don't call names," moaned the man, "at least I have not murdered you, although I have every reason to. You meddled with matters which do not concern you." "I meddled in matters which concern every honest man who loves law and order, Lord Curberry," said Dan, sternly, "apart from the death of Sir Charles Moon, which I was bound to avenge for Lillian's sake, it was my duty to stop this wholesale murder. Perhaps you had Moon killed yourself." "I didn't; I didn't. It was to my interest that he should live, for if he had I should have been married to his daughter by this time. Queen Beelzebub murdered him because he was offered a chance of belonging to the society and refused." "In that," said Dan, sternly, "acting as an honest man." "He acted as a foolish man. For, learning too much, he sent for Durwin to reveal what he knew. Penn found out his intended treachery, and told the Queen. She came--you saw her when she came--and she killed him." "She killed Durwin?" "Yes," gasped Curberry, who was growing whiter and more haggard every moment.