"He! he! that will take some time to explain. If you would rather be alone with me--" "Alone with you," repeated the widow, in tones of disgust. "I would rather be alone with a serpent. Dr. Ellis shall stay--at my particular request." "Dr. Ellis has no intention of leaving," remarked that gentleman, and folding his arms relapsed into a grim but observant silence. Busham, with a vexed air, scratched his chin with one lean finger. "As you please," said he, with apparent carelessness, "but he will not think much of you when I tell all." "You know nothing about that," retorted Mrs. Moxton, very pale, but in a steady voice, "and I have come here to learn all. Of what do you accuse me?" "All in good time, dear lady," said Busham, harshly. "This knife was found by me in your garden, on the morning I called to see you after the murder." "Are you sure you did not find it there on the previous night?" asked the widow, sneering. "I was not in the garden on that night." "Neither was the assassin," interposed Ellis, quickly. "Moxton was stabbed as he stepped in at the gate." "Or as he turned to close it," retorted Busham, smartly. Mrs. Moxton held her handkerchief to her mouth and shivered, but with her eyes on Busham's mean face nodded to him to continue. The man, seeing that she had a vague terror of his threats, did so with a chuckle. "Since you know that I was at Dukesfield on that night," he went on, "I admit it. Why should I not? I am innocent and can prove as much. So Monsieur Zirknitz saw me? H'm! I know that scamp; no one better. He called here one day with my cousin to extort money on the plea that I had undue influence over my uncle, but I soon turned the rascals out, I can tell you. I am a dangerous man when roused." Mr. Busham chuckled, and repeated the phrase with relish. "A dangerous man." "Oh, I daresay," said Mrs. Moxton, with a contemptuous air, which accorded ill with her pale face and uneasy manner. "Dangerous as a fox, or a stoat, or a weasel may be. You belong to the vermin tribe, you do." "Go on with your story, man," directed Ellis, curtly. "Civil, civil, oh, very civil," snapped Busham, "but I'll teach you both manners before I'm done with you. At Dukesfield was I? Yes, I was. He! he! do you know what I saw there, Mrs. Moxton? You don't. Well then, I'll tell you, and take this for my fee." "The will!" gasped Mrs. Moxton, as Busham clawed the document. "I thought that was what you wanted." "Leave that will alone," growled Ellis, scowling. Mr. Busham immediately pushed the paper away. "It will come back to me soon," said he, nodding. "Oh, I know, I know." "What the deuce do you know? Speak out, can't you?" "Softly, Dr. Ellis, softly, all in good time. Maybe you won't be so pleased with my knowledge when you are possessed of it." "I am the best judge of that; go on. You were at Dukesfield on the night of August 16th?"