"I quite understand, sir, but it's got to be done," replied the detective, firmly. For a few seconds after he had spoken, he seemed to be thinking deeply. Then he came out with a startling proposition. "Look here, Captain Murchison, something has just occurred to me. I am not sure whether you will think it a good plan. Just now I thought it would be better for you not to be there. But if this young gentleman is so gone on the girl, it might make a deeper impression on him, bring home to him more strongly the sense of her unworthiness, if he were actually present at the scene. And it would spare you any painful explanations, beforehand. Afterwards you can tell him or not, as you please, about our interview here." Hugh made a gesture of disgust. "You propose that we should carry out our original intention of dining there and of sitting at the table of a criminal? I don't think I could bring myself to it." If Mr Davidson did not quite agree with the young man's scruples, he was open-minded enough to see the matter from Hugh's point of view. "I quite understand, sir. But I think I can manage it all right. You say they dine at eight. Get there with your friend a quarter of an hour before. I will be there with my friend at five minutes to, before the dinner is served. You then won't have to sit at his table, you see." Hugh was still hesitating. Mr Davidson proceeded to clinch his argument. "You see, sir, it will be so much better for Mr Pomfret to see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears. When he has seen us clap the darbies on Burton, and listened to what I can tell him about the girl-- you can just give me a lead there, if you don't mind--I think he will be cured of his calf-love on the spot. As far as he is concerned, we want to make a swift and sudden cure, to kill his affection at once." Yes, on the whole, after a little further reflection Murchison was disposed to fall in with this new suggestion. Pomfret, however deep his infatuation, could not resist the evidence of his own senses. He would be much more strongly impressed than by a mere bald narration of the facts as conveyed to his friend by the detective. So it was settled. Hugh would bring Pomfret to Rosemount at twenty minutes or a quarter to eight. At five minutes to, Davidson and his colleague would present themselves to execute their painful errand. "Just a word before I go," said the young man as he turned towards the door. "Is the man's name really Burton, or only an alias?" "That is his real name. Of course he has had aliases. His family, I understand, are respectable people of the lower middle-class. He was the black sheep, born with crooked and criminal instincts." "And the girl, is she really his sister?"