"I'll tell you," said Bocaros coming away from the window, "or Mr. Fane must have been the young man who spoke to the officer and who killed the woman--poor Flora." "You forget," said Arnold coolly, "it was proved that the woman was alive when the young man in question was talking to the policeman." "On the contrary," said the professor smoothly, "it was proved that the woman--poor Flora--was dead three hours when the woman was singing and the young man luring the policeman away." "How dare you say that the man lured the policeman away!" cried Arnold furiously; "your ignorance of English law, professor, excuses your loose talk. But you are accusing every one without any basis of fact. What is your opinion, Jasher?" "I haven't got one as yet," said Jasher, putting his book away and rising; "so far I can't see light. But I will go away and search, and then come back to tell you if I have discovered anything." "In what direction will you search?" asked Calvert uneasily. "I shall search in the direction of the latch-key. Fane alone had it, so I want to learn Fane's doings on that night." "He was at the seaside." "So he says," said Jasher significantly. "And so Mrs. Fane says," said Bocaros quickly. "Better look for the young man with the pointed beard." "The police have looked everywhere and he has not been found," said Arnold calmly, "and I don't think he will be found." The professor was about to speak when Jasher pulled him to the door. When there he spoke. "By the way, Mr. Calvert, did you ever see Mr. Brand?" he asked. "No. I never did." "Did you ever see his portrait?" "No"--but this time Calvert's denial was not so emphatic--"I didn't." Jasher nodded. "That's all right," said he. "I'll come back in a few days and tell you about the latch-key." When the two withdrew, Calvert sat down in an armchair and buried his face in his hands. His head was whirling, and his mind was much troubled. So buried was he in his reflections that he did not hear the door open. He was not conscious that any one was in the room till a hand was laid on his shoulders. With a start he sprang to his feet. He looked and saw Laura Mason. CHAPTER XII ARNOLD AND LAURA The lovers looked at one another in terror. Calvert, surprised by Laura's sudden entrance, had no time to compose his features. She, seeing his face, and coming to him already filled with suspicions against which she strove vainly to fight, reflected the paleness and haggard looks which startled her. For the moment both masks had dropped, and these human beings, devoured by terror, stared at one another as though the fabled Gorgon had changed them into stone. Arnold was the first to recover himself. He smoothed his face to a smile, and held out his hands, which she took in a passive manner. "I did not expect to see you here, dearest," he said, leading her to a chair. "But how ill you look. Nothing is wrong, I hope."