again to my room with the awful knowledge of my sister's crime upon my conscience." "What hour was that?" "When I retired again to bed my watch showed that it was barely half-past one. At two o'clock Short, awakened by his alarum clock, made the discovery and aroused the house. What followed you know well enough. I need not describe it. You can imagine what I felt, and how guilty was my conscience with the awful knowledge of it all." "The circumstances were certainly most puzzling," I remarked. "It almost appears as though matters were cleverly arranged in order to baffle detection." "To a certain extent they undoubtedly were. I knew that the Hennikers would say nothing of poor Mary's erratic return to them. I did all in my power to withdraw suspicion from my sister, at the risk of it falling upon myself. You suspected me, Ralph. And only naturally--after that letter you discovered." "But Mary's homicidal tendency seems to have been carefully concealed," I said. "I recollect having detected in her a strange vagueness of manner, but it never occurred to me that she was mentally weak. In the days immediately preceding the tragedy I certainly saw but little of her. She was out nearly every evening." "She was not responsible for her actions for several weeks together sometimes," Sir Bernard interrupted. "I discovered it over a year ago." "And you profited by your discovery!" my love cried, turning upon him fiercely. "The crime was committed at your instigation!" she declared. "At my instigation!" he echoed, with a dry laugh. "I suppose you will say next that I hypnotised her--or some bunkum of that sort!" "I'm no believer in hypnotic theories. They were exploded long ago," she answered. "But what I do believe--nay, what is positively proved from my poor sister's own lips by a statement made before witnesses--is that you were the instigator of the crime. You met her by appointment that night at Kew Bridge. You opened the door of the house for her, and you compelled her to go in and commit the deed. Although demented, she recollected it all in her saner moments. You told her terrible stories of old Mr. Courtenay, for whom you had feigned such friendship, and for weeks you urged her to kill him secretly until, in the frenzy of insanity to which you had brought her, she carried out your design with all that careful ingenuity that is so often characteristic of madness." "You lie, woman!" the old man snapped. "I had nothing whatever to do with the affair! I was at home at Hove on that night." "No! no! you were not," interrupted Jevons. "Your memory requires refreshing. Reflect a moment, and you'll find that you arrived at Brighton Station at seven o'clock next morning from Victoria. You spent the night in London; and further, you were recognised by a police inspector walking along the Chiswick Road as early as half-past three. I have not been idle, Sir Bernard, and have spent a good deal of time at Hove of late."