The detective regarded him steadily and with an air of doubt. "Then why did you go away? What was your motive in frightening the poor girl?" he asked. "I went involuntarily. I—well, I suppose I must have been drugged and put on board a ship at Hull." "H’m! What ship?" Gerald gave the name of the ship and of its captain, which the detective scribbled down. "Yes. You’d better tell me the whole of your story. It seems rather a curious one." "It is," declared Durrant, and he proceeded to describe what happened on that fateful night when he met the two ladies in distress outside Kensington Gardens. The detective listened attentively, but noting Gerald’s unkempt appearance and rough dress, together with his excited manner, he came to the conclusion that what he was relating was a mere exaggerated tale concocted with some ulterior motive, which to him was not apparent. At last, when Durrant began to describe Bernard Boyne’s strange doings in Bridge Place, the inspector interrupted him. "The house has been burned, as I dare say you know." "Yes," replied Gerald vehemently, "purposely burned for two reasons. First, to destroy evidence of whatever was contained in that upstairs room, together with its occupant——" "Then you think someone lived up there—eh?" "I feel absolutely sure of it." "You only believe it," said the officer. And after a pause he asked: "And what was the second motive?" "To get rid of Miss Ramsay—for that night, after visiting you, she went back and slept there in order to keep her aunt company." The detective smiled. Then, after a pause, he said: "Mr. Boyne is very well-known and popular in Hammersmith, you know. Everyone has a good word for him. He is honest, hard-working, and often shows great kindness to poor people whose insurance policies would lapse if he did not help them over the stile. No, Mr. Durrant; Bernard Boyne is certainly not the daring and relentless criminal you are trying to make him out. Indeed, I hear that, by the fire at his house, he’s lost nearly all he possessed. He wasn’t insured." "Why is it that by day he collects insurance premiums here, and yet at night puts on an evening suit and dines at the most expensive restaurants in the West End?" demanded Gerald, furious that his story was being dismissed by the police. "Ah! He may have some motive. Many men who earn their money in a hard manner by day go into the West End at night dressed as gentlemen. He may have some motive. He may have some rich clients, for all we know." "I see you are dubious of the whole affair!" exclaimed Gerald. "I’ve only come here to tell you what I know." "And I thank you for coming," replied the detective. "But we cannot act upon your mere suspicions. You must bring us something more tangible than that before we institute inquiries. I regret it," he added; "but we cannot help you. If you had any direct evidence of incendiarism it would be different."