"Please do not hesitate. You have only to give the certificate. Here is pen and paper. And here is a blank form. My niece died of heart disease, for which you have attended her several times during the past six months." "I certainly have not!" "No," he replied, grinning. "I am aware of that. But surely five thousand pounds is easily earned by writing out a certificate. I'll write it--you only just copy it," and he bent and scribbled some words upon a slip of paper. Five thousand pounds! It was a tempting offer in face of the fact that I had just lost practically a similar sum. "But how do I know that Miss----" "Miss Engledue," he said. "Well, how do I know that Miss Engledue has not--well, has not met with foul play?" I asked. "You don't, my dear sir. That I admit. Yet you surely do not suspect me of murdering my niece--the girl I have brought up as my own daughter," and he laughed grimly. "Five thousand pounds is a decent sum," he added. "And in this case you can very easily earn it." "By posing as a medical man," I remarked. "A very serious offence!" Again my host smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "Well," he said, after a pause. "Here is the certificate for you to copy. Reject my offer if you like; but I think you must agree that it is a most generous one. To me, money is but little object. My only concern is the annoying publicity which a coroner's inquiry must bring." I confess that I was wavering. The shrewd, clever man at once realized the position, and again he conducted me to the chamber where the young girl was lying cold and still. I shall ever recollect that beautiful face, white and cold like chiselled marble it seemed, for _rigor mortis_ was apparently already setting in. Back again in the library Oswald De Gex took from his safe a bundle of hundred-pound Bank of England notes, and counted them out--fifty of them. He held them in his hand with a sheet of blank notepaper bearing an address in Queen Anne Street, Cavendish Square, and a blank form. Thus he tempted me--and--and at last I fell! When I had written and signed the certificate, he handed me the bundle of notes. I now remember that, at that moment, he took some pastilles from his pocket and placed one in his mouth. I thought perhaps they were throat lozenges. Of a sudden, however, the atmosphere seemed to be overpoweringly oppressive with the odour of heliotrope. It seemed a house of subtle perfumes! The effect upon me was that of delirious intoxication. I could hear nothing and I could think of nothing. My senses were entirely confused, and I became utterly dazed. What did it all mean? I only know that I placed the wad of bank notes in the inner pocket of my waistcoat, and that I was talking to the millionaire when, of a sudden, my brain felt as though it had suddenly become frozen. The scent of verbena became nauseating--even intoxicating. But upon Oswald De Gex, who was still munching his pastille, the odour apparently had no effect.