"Certainly; if only to disabuse your mind of the suspicions put into it by that infernal scoundrel there." The Frenchman, at whom this compliment was pointed, threw an ugly look at the millionaire which foreboded anything but good to that gentleman's well-being, but with his accustomed presence of mind soon recovered himself with an enigmatic smile. "My faith, this 'dear Spolgers' is a tragedy of one act. Is it not so?" "No, it isn't," retorted Mr. Spolger, tartly; "and now, as you've given your version of the story, perhaps you'll permit me to tell mine to these gentlemen, and clear myself from your vile insinuations." Judas nodded his red head with a mocking smile, and Mr. Spolger, after glancing at him viciously, immediately explained himself. "The whole affair is this," he said, in his peevish voice. "Miss Marson was up at my house before Melstane went to Jarlchester, and displayed considerable curiosity about the manufacture of the 'Spolger Soother,' which you no doubt know is a pill meant to soothe the nerves and give a good night's rest. I was willing to show Miss Varlins all the attention possible, and therefore made up some pills for her with my own hands, to show her how it was done. As there is morphia in the pills, I weighed out the requisite quantity with great care, upon which she asked me if I made a mistake and put in too much, what would be the result. I told her that in such a case the person would probably die. Upon which she made a remark which struck me as curious then, but which does not strike me as curious now. She said: 'If, then, you made one pill with too much morphia in it, the person taking it would die, and even if the rest of the pills were examined, no reason could be given for his death.' I assured her that this would probably be the case, but said that all our 'Soothers' were manufactured in a most careful manner. After this she manifested no further interest in the pills being made, so I sealed up the jar of morphia and placed it on the shelf. Shortly afterwards, I was called out of the room, and was absent for about a quarter of an hour; so I've no doubt that in my absence the unhappy girl took some morphia out of the bottle--if you remember, Mr. Fanks, the seal was broken--and carrying it home with her, made the two fatal pills according to the method I had shown her. These pills she afterwards--according to the story of Monsieur Judas--placed in the box of tonic pills left by Melstane on the table. Down at Jarlchester he took one and died; the other, I understand from Mr. Fanks, was analysed by Dr. Japix, and found to contain a great deal of morphia. I am afraid, therefore, that in all innocence I contributed to the catastrophe of Melstane's death. I beg to state, however, that there is this difference between myself and Monsieur Guinaud. He put the idea willingly into her head to kill Melstane. I showed her how, but inadvertently; so I am confident, gentlemen, that you will admit that