"The fact that you did not denounce him points to the fact that you helped Beardsley's escape. The fact that you sent the mulatto to Mrs. Durgan's address proves that you knew where Beardsley had taken refuge. Beardsley went to Mrs. Durgan's house, not to his former lodgings. She must have known that some disaster had happened if he returned in disguise; she must quickly have known from the papers the extent of his guilt. She certainly had him in her house ill a week after--really very ill, for Mr. Durgan, on one of his rare visits, found two hospital nurses attending him. It was said to be a severe case of pleurisy with complications; and he has been, or has pretended to be, more or less of an invalid ever since. But before his illness he acted his part well. He certainly held his séances regularly for a number of evenings after the crime. I made very strict inquiry at the time of several members of this circle as to its nature, because of the connection Mr. Claxton had with it. Beardsley went into his trances, and spoke with strange tongues, and what not, during that week. I knew this because several of his disciples, who believed in his dealings with the unseen world, tried to call up the spirits of Mr. and Mrs. Claxton, so unhappily departed, and entreated for some information as to their murderer. The villain had not the hardihood to personate his own victims." Alden paused suddenly, and demanded of the sisters: "You remember hearing of the incident?" Bertha, her face flushed and excited, gave a hasty "Yes." Miss Claxton made an indifferent motion of assent. She preserved a uniform expression of great sadness. She seemed to take hardly any special interest in anything said. "This boy, 'Dolphus, went also straight to Mrs. Durgan's house. He has been sheltered by Beardsley and Mrs. Durgan; he has been Beardsley's valet ever since. Mrs. Durgan may have hid them both in the first instance out of pity; or she, too, may have had another reason. She would fear to send them away later lest her connivance in their hiding should become known." "Consider," said Durgan. "Do you think my wife, or any other woman, would voluntarily live in daily terror of being killed by such a madman as you describe?" "Is there no adequate motive that you can suggest?" Alden returned. "Love," said he. "But I am certain that my wife has not been in love." Hermione Claxton looked at Durgan for a moment; a tinge of color and an abatement of her sorrow were evident. Then she relapsed into her former attitude. Alden stood in front of her, watching her changing expression with impassioned eagerness. "In the name of God, Hermione," he cried solemnly, "why do you shield this man? Why do you still wish to shield him? Why are you glad that Mr. Durgan should believe that love does not exist between him and Mrs. Durgan?"