"I speak then, monsieur, straight. It's a drama of the Porte St. Martin. In this way. On the night before my dear friend goes to Jarlcesterre he is in this room; with him, myself. We talk, we laugh, we weep adieu! At once there is a tap at the window there--the window that opens like a door on to the beautiful grass. We turn; I see the dress, the hood, the figure of a woman, but not the face. My friend Sebastian to me speaks: 'Go, my good friend, I have to speak with a charming angel. You are a man of honour. Disturb not our rendezvous.' What would you? I go, and my friend Sebastian locks the door. At this I am angry. He trusts me not, so I say: 'Very well, you think I am a spy. So be it, I will listen.' Conceive to yourself, monsieur, how I was judged. In anger, I went outside to that window. It is open but a little, and I hear all--all! Sebastian to the woman speaks. They talk, and talk, and fight, and rage! Oh! it was terrible. She asks of him something, and he says, 'Yes, it is for you.' Then he goes out of this room by that door. She is left alone, this charming woman. She goes to the table, here; on it there is a box of pills--my friend's box of pills. She opens the box. My eye beholds her drop into it something, I know not what. Again she closes the box, and waits. I see my dear Melstane return. They talk, they kiss, they part. From the window I fly, and when I come into this room by the door, the woman is gone, Sebastian is gone, and the window is closed but not locked. I go to it, I open it, and on the grass there I see a handkerchief; it is now mine, and on it is the name of the woman that came--the woman that put the pills in the box--the woman that killed my friend." "And the name--the name!" cried Fanks, in a state of great excitement, springing to his feet; "tell me her name." Rapid as thought Guinaud produced a white handkerchief from his breast-pocket and flung it to Fanks. The detective seized it, and looked at the name in the corner. "Judith!" Extracts From a Detective's Note-Book