"I was rather drunk on the night of the murder," he said, "but not so bad as Stewart thought me. He saw me at the shop-door at two o'clock, but I was there a quarter of an hour before." "Did you see anything?" "I saw the gate which led into the alley open," replied Villiers. "No one was about, so I walked in." "What for?" asked Naball, glancing at him keenly. "Oh, nothing," replied Villiers indifferently; "the fact was, I saw a policeman coming along, and though I was pretty drunk, I'd sense enough to know I might be run in, so I went into the alley and closed the gate till he passed." "And then you came out." "No, I didn't. I walked to the back of the house just to see where it led to. I saw the window wide open, and looked in and saw--" "The murdered man?" Villiers nodded. "Yes; the moonlight was streaming in at the window, and I could see quite plainly. I was in a fright, as I thought, seeing I had no business on the premises, I might be accused, so I got down from the window and went off, closing the gate of the alley after me." "It wasn't wise of you to stay about the premises," said Naball. "I know that," rejoined Villiers tartly; "but I couldn't get away, because I saw Stewart coming up the street just as I was wondering where to go; I then pretended to be drunk, so that I could get away without suspicion." "Why didn't you run?" asked Naball. "Because he was too close, and besides, he might have given chase, thinking I had been robbing the shop; then, with the open window and the murdered man, it would have been all up with me." "I don't know if it isn't all up with you now," said Naball drily. "How do I know you are innocent!" "Because I know who killed Lazarus." "The deuce you do--who?" "Stewart himself." "Humph! that's what I thought; but what proof have you?" Villiers put his hand in his pocket and brought out a large knife. "I found this just under the window," he said, handing it to Naball. "You'll see there's blood on the handle, so I'm sure it was with it the crime was committed." "But how do you know it's Stewart's knife?" asked Naball. Villiers placed his finger on one side of the handle. "Read that," he said briefly. "From Meg," read Naball. "Exactly," said Villiers. "Meg is Kitty Marchurst's child, and she gave it to Keith Stewart." "By Jove, it looks suspicious," said Naball. "He is in possession of a large sum of money, and can't tell how he got it. He can't account for his time on the night of the murder, and this knife with his name on it is found close to the window through which the murderer entered--humph!--things look black against him." "I suppose you'll arrest him at once?" said Villiers malignantly. "Then you suppose wrong," retorted Naball. "I'll have him looked after so that he won't escape; but I'll hold my tongue about this, and so will you." "Until when?"