"This man," said he, "has come to me with a ridiculous, beastly story. At first I was undecided whether I should listen to him or kick him out. I thought it wiser to listen to him in the presence of a reputable witness. That's why I've sent for you, Duncan. Now you just begin all over again, my man," said he, turning to Gedge, "and remember that anything you say here will be used against you at your trial." Gedge laughed--I must admit, with some justification. "You forget, Sir Anthony, I'm not a criminal and you're not a policeman." "I'm the Mayor to this town, sir," cried Sir Anthony. "I'm also a Justice of the Peace." "And I'm a law-abiding citizen," retorted Gedge. "You're an infernal socialistic pro-German," exclaimed Sir Anthony. "Prove it. I only ask you to prove it. No matter what my private opinions may be, you just try to bring me up under the Defence of the Realm Act, and you'll find you can't touch me." I held out a hand. "Forgive me for interrupting," said I, "but what is all this discussion about?" Gedge crossed one leg over the other and drew his beard through his fingers. Sir Anthony was about to burst into speech, but I checked him with a gesture and turned to Gedge. "It has nothing to do with political opinions," said he. "It has to do with the death, nearly two years ago, of Miss Althea Fenimore, Sir Anthony's only daughter." Sir Anthony, his face congested, glared at him malevolently. I started, with a gasp of surprise, and stared at the man who, caressing his beard, looked from one to the other of us with an air of satisfaction. "Get on," said Sir Anthony. "You are going to give a civic reception to-day to Colonel Boyce, V.C., aren't you?" "Yes, I am," snapped Sir Anthony. "Do you think you ought to do it when I tell you that Colonel Boyce, V.C., murdered Miss Althea Fenimore on the night of the 25th June, two years ago?" "Yes," said Sir Anthony. "And do you know why? Because I know you to be a liar and a scoundrel." I can never describe the awful horror that numbed me to the heart. For a few moments my body seemed as lifeless as my legs. The charge, astounding almost to grotesqueness in the eyes of Sir Anthony, and rousing him to mere wrath, deprived me of the power of speech. For I knew, in that dreadful instant, that the man's words contained some elements of truth.