"Well he did and he didn't," said Hilliston, in some confusion; "that is, he admitted that the story was founded on fact, but he did not tell me whence he obtained such facts. I suppose it is your intention to question this young lady." "Yes. I want to know how she heard of the matter." "Pooh! Read it in a provincial newspaper, no doubt." "I think not," replied Claude, with some point. "It is next to impossible that she should come across a paper containing an account of the trial. People don't keep such grewsome matters by them, unless they have an interest in doing so." "Well, this young lady cannot be one of those persons. How old is she?" "Four-and-twenty!" "Ah!" said Hilliston with a sigh of relief, "she was not born when your father was murdered. You must see she can know nothing positive of the matter." "Then how did she supply Linton with the materials for this book?" "I can only answer that question by reverting to my theory of the newspaper." "Well, even granting that it is so," said Larcher quickly, "she knows details of the case which are not set forth in the newspaper." "How do you know this?" asked Hilliston, biting his lip to control his feelings. "Because in the third volume----" "Nonsense! nonsense!" interrupted Hilliston violently, "you seem to forget that the hard facts of the case have been twisted and turned by the novelist's brain. We do not know who slew your father, but the novelist had to end his story,--he had to solve the mystery,--and he has done so after his own fashion." Rising from his seat, he paced hurriedly to and fro, talking the while with an agitation strange in so hard and self-controlled a man. "For instance, the character of Michael Dene is obviously taken from me. It is not a bit like me, of course, either in speech, or looks, or dress. All the novelist knew was that I had given evidence at the trial, and that the dead man had been my dearest friend. The circumstances suggested a striking dramatic situation--that the dear friend had committed the crime for the base love of the wife. Michael Dene is guilty in the novel--but the man in real life, myself----You know all I know of the case. I would give ten years of my life, short as the span now is, to find the man who killed George Larcher." This was strong speaking, and carried conviction to the heart of Claude, the more so when Hilliston further explained himself. "On the night of the murder I was at the ball three miles off. I knew nothing of the matter till I was called upon to identify the corpse of your father. It was hardly recognizable, and the face was much disfigured, but I recognized him by the color of his hair and the seal on his finger." "How was it that my father was dressed as Darnley?"