"Certainly! It is well we should both be on common ground for the better understanding of your explanation. Regarding the death of this Melstane, I own that at Jarlchester I was half inclined to believe in the suicide theory, and had it not been for the name Ironfields on that pill-box, which gave me a clue, would probably have acquiesced in the verdict of the jury. Following up the clue, however, I went to the chemists, Wosk & Co.'s, where the pills were made up, and discovered that originally there were twelve in the box. I could account for the disposal of six, so that ought to have left a balance of half-a-dozen." "True! but if I remember, when I counted them at Jarlchester there were eight." "Exactly! Two extra pills were placed in that box by some unknown person whom I believe to be the murderer of Melstane." "Why?" "Because I took the pills to Dr. Japix, and he analysed the whole eight; seven were harmless tonic pills, the eighth compounded of deadly morphia." "What!" cried Roger, starting to his feet, "and Melstane died of morphia!" "He did! Now do you understand? The murderer, whoever he was, placed two morphia pills sufficient to cause death in the box. Melstane took one in complete innocence and died, the other was analysed by Japix and found to contain sufficient morphia to kill two men." "It's wonderful how you have worked it out," said Roger, with hearty admiration; "but how do you connect me with the murder?" "I did not say I connected you with the murder," replied Fanks, hastily; "I only said there were suspicious circumstances against you. For instance, you had morphia pills in your possession." "How do you know that?" asked Roger, with a start of surprise. "Japix told me." "Yes, and Japix prescribed them," cried Axton, starting to his feet. "I own that does look suspicious; but I can set your mind at rest on that point. Will you permit me to withdraw for a moment?" "Don't talk nonsense, Roger," said Fanks, angrily; "of course I will." Axton said nothing, but left the room, leaving Fanks considerably puzzled as to the cause of his departure. In a few minutes, however, he returned and placed in the detective's hands a box of pills. "There," he said, resuming his seat, "if you count those pills you will find there are eleven. The original number was twelve; I only took one, and finding it did me no good, left the rest in the box. Am I correct?" "You are," replied Fanks, who had counted the pills; "there are eleven here." "If you have any further doubts, you can ask Wosk & Co., who made up the pills." "There is no need. I believe you." "But I would prefer your doing so," said Roger, urgently. "Very well," replied Fanks, calmly putting the box in his pocket; "I will see about it to-morrow. But now you have set my mind at rest on this point, and I have told you my story, tell me yours." Roger paled a little at this request, and remained silent for a few moments.