This strange dialogue was interrupted by the entrance of the servant, who handed Maxwell fifty pounds in gold and then took his departure. The young man placed the money on the table and motioned to Mrs. Belk. "Count it, please, and see if it is correct." Mrs. Belk eagerly advanced towards the table, and dividing the money into tens, counted it rapidly. Having done so, she took a small canvas bag out of her pocket and put the gold into it. "That is all right, sir," she said, with a sigh of relief, opening the black bag. "You have behaved like a gentleman; I have the money I want, and you have in exchange--this." "This" was a small diamond pin in the shape of a star, with eight points, and Maxwell took it in his hand with a sensation that he had seen it before. "Ah!" he said, thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands, "this is the thing I have bought for my fifty pounds." "Yes, sir." "It is worth about twenty, I should say," said Maxwell, resuming his seat. "But doubtless the story attached to it will render it more valuable." "There is no story, sir," replied Mrs. Belk, who had placed the gold in her obtrusive black bag. "Simply this: I found that on the terrace of the Hall on the morning after the murder. It was lying close to the window." "Indeed! And you think----" "I think that it was dropped by the man who murdered Sir Rupert." "How do you know it was a man?" "That is a gentleman's scarf-pin, sir." "Hah!" cried Maxwell, with a sudden start, "I know now where I saw it." "You saw it, sir?" asked Mrs. Belk, eagerly. "Yes, on the scarf of the man I----never mind, I may be mistaken. Did you tell your son you had found this?" "No, sir. I wished to surprise him with the money. I have told no one except you." "I'm glad of that. Well, I think I have an idea; but surely he cannot be guilty of the murder." "Who, sir?" Maxwell, who had risen to his feet, looked at her keenly. "Have you any idea of whom I am talking?" "None in the least, sir." The young man walked to the other end of the room, then retraced his steps slowly. "Mrs. Belk," he said, after a pause, "do you know if there were any strangers in Deswarth on the night of the murder?" "Only one, sir. A furriner at The Chequers, and he went away next morning." "Do you think he knew Sir Rupert?" "I do not know, sir. All I know is that I found that scarf-pin near where the murder was committed. If it belongs to the furriner, he killed Sir Rupert." "What was he doing at Deswarth?" "I do not know, sir." "Humph! Well, say nothing about this to any one, Mrs. Belk. I will see you again when I come down to Deswarth." "You are coming down to Deswarth, sir?" "Yes, to find out who killed Sir Rupert." "I think you'll find him in London, sir," said the woman, with a grim smile, as she stood with her hand on the door. "Good-morning, sir." "Good-morning." Maxwell stood a long time looking at the pin. "Yes," he said aloud, "it certainly belongs to that man."