"Oh, that was easy. Edgar gave me your picture." "I should not have thought that Edgar was sufficiently friendly with you to do that." "He was when I lent him money," said Busham, quietly. "Why did you lend him money?" "Because several times he called on me and threatened to see his father. I did not want him to do that lest he should be forgiven, so I lent him money on condition that he did not go. Uncertain of what his reception would be, he took my bribe and stayed away. On one of those occasions he showed me your photograph, Mrs. Moxton." "Edgar was forgiven after all," said the widow, ignoring this last remark. "Yes, but the forgiveness did not do him much good. He! he!" "Mr. Busham!" burst out Ellis, who could no longer be restrained. "You did not see Mrs. Moxton enter a cab on that night. The lady was her sister." "I know about the sister," said Busham. "The twin-sister. Zirknitz told me." "Are you friendly with Zirknitz?" asked Ellis, with unconcealed surprise. "Very!" retorted the lawyer, with an ugly grin. "I lend him money." "Lend money to a scamp like that, whom you hate, who will never repay you?" Busham scratched his chin. "Oh, as to that," said he, "I know what I am about, you may be sure. So it was your sister, Mrs. Moxton? Bless me, how like she is to you; a twin, of course? I see. Why was she crying and flying?" "She may have cried because we quarrelled on that night," said the widow, in an agitated tone; "but she was not flying. She merely went home." "To thirty-two Geneva Square, Pimlico? I know! I know!" "How do you know?" "Because I picked up another cab and followed her!" "Why did you do that?" "I thought she was you, and wished to know where you were going at that hour of the night. Your sister going home? Ah, that explains it." "So far, so good, Mr. Busham," said Ellis, weary of this talk; "but what about the knife?" "I called next morning at Myrtle Villa, after hearing of the murder. I searched the garden for traces of the criminal, and found that knife hidden behind some laurel bushes." "It was not hidden," cried Mrs. Moxton. "It was thrown there by Edgar." "Ah! you acknowledge that the knife is your property," said Busham. "Why should I deny it? That knife is ours. It was tossed into the garden by Edgar." "And this is rust on it, no doubt," said the lawyer, touching the stains. "Not blood, then, Mrs. Moxton?" The widow rose with an agitated face, and, snatching up the will, thrust it into Busham's hand. "Take it, and say no more," she said harshly. "Mrs. Moxton! The will!" cried Ellis, jumping up. "Let him destroy it! Let him take and keep the money!" "Thank you; and in return I will hold my tongue. If you like you can take the knife," said Busham.