Whereupon Villiers, seeing that the detective was too strong for him, sat down sulkily in his chair, and after invoking a blessing on Naball's eyes, invited him to speak out. The detective replaced the revolver in his pocket, whence it could be easily seized if necessary, and smiled complacently at his sullen-faced friend. "Aha!" he said, producing a dainty cigarette, "this is much better. Have you a light?" Villiers flung down a lucifer match with a husky curse, which Naball, quite disregarding, took up the match and lighted his cigarette. Watching the blue smoke curling from his lips for a few moments, he turned languidly to Villiers, and began to talk. "You see, I know all about it," he said quietly; "you were too drunk to remember that night when you tried to take a diamond crescent off that woman, and I expect Ah Goon never told you!" "It was you who took it, then," growled Villiers fiercely. "In your own words, perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't," replied Naball, in an irritating tone; "at all events, it's quite safe. You had better answer all my questions, because you bear too bad a character not to be suspected of the crime, particularly as you were about Russell Street on that night." "Yes, I was," said Villiers angrily; "and who saw me--Keith Stewart--a mighty fine witness he is." "Aha!" thought the astute Naball, "he does know something, then." "I could put a spoke in Stewart's wheel," grumbled the other viciously. "I don't think so," replied the detective, fingering his cigarette, "he is far above you--he's got money, is going to make a name by a successful play, and, if report speaks truly, Caprice loves him. "I don't care a farthing whether she does or not," said Villiers loudly; "she'd love any one who has money. Stewart's got some, has he; where did he get it?" "I'm sure I don't know." "I do!" "Indeed! where?" "Never you mind," said Villiers suspiciously. "I know my own knowing." "Remember what I said," observed Naball quietly, "and tell me all." "If I tell you all, what will you do?" asked Villiers. "I'll save your neck from the gallows," replied Naball smoothly. "Not good enough." "Oh, very well," said the detective rising, "I've no more to say. I'm off to the magistrate." "What for?" Naball fixed his keen eyes on the bloated face of the other. "To get a warrant for your arrest." "You can't do that." "Can't I--you'll see." "No; wait a bit," said Villiers in alarm; "I can easily prove myself innocent." "Indeed; then you'd better do so now, before a warrant is out for your arrest." "You won't give me any money?" "Not a cent--it's not a question of money with you, but life or death." Villiers deliberated for a moment, and then apparently made up his mind. "Sit down," he said sullenly. "I'll tell you all I know." Naball resumed his seat, lighted a fresh cigarette, and prepared to listen.