"Tell me your ideas, doctor, and I'll carry them out, and report progress." "Good! I'll be the sleeping partner," he said in an amused tone; "but I warn you, Mr. Denham, that from what I see of this case it will be one of great difficulty, and may take months to work out." "I don't mind that; it is nothing to an idle man like myself; but I am afraid, Dr. Merrick, I take up your valuable time." "Oh, I can spare a few minutes," said the doctor quickly. "I work hard enough, so it is permitted to even a professional man to indulge occasionally in some amusement. This case is so to me." "Well, and your idea?" "In the first place, I am inclined to agree with your ideas of Felix passing himself off as Francis." "I have abandoned that idea," said I dolefully; "I saw Felix in Paris." "Wait a moment," replied Merrick, "we'll come to that later on. Furthermore, I believe it was Felix you met at Marshminster--Felix, who called himself Francis, and posed as the lover of Miss Bellin." "But I saw him in Paris," said I, again clinging to that undeniable fact. "I know you did, but the pretended Francis of Marshminster, and the real Felix of Paris, are one and the same person." "You mean that he followed me over?" I cried, suddenly enlightened. "Precisely, and suborned the manager of the Hôtel des Étrangers." "But why should he do that?" "Can't you see?" said Merrick impatiently. "Felix wants to put a stop to your following up this case. From your story it is quite probable that he killed his brother through Strent. The whole circumstances of that Lone Inn are very suspicious. Your unforeseen arrival that night complicated matters. You saw how unwilling they were to admit you. Had you not arrived, Francis would have vanished from the world, and none would have been a bit the wiser. But when you came to Bellin Hall, Felix saw a new source of danger, not only to his character, but to his life. He asked for a night's grace. During that night he went himself to the Fen Inn, and hid the corpse in some boghole." "Impossible!" "I'll stake my life that it is so," said Merrick calmly. "Make inquiries as to the movements of Felix Briarfield on that night, and I'll lay anything you'll find he went to the Fen Inn." "That, then," said I, "was the reason he was so ready to go there next morning with me." "Exactly! He knew well, thanks to his forethought, that there was no evidence there to convict him of a crime, and he could still keep up his imposture. So far all was in his favor, but your obstinacy raised a new danger. You said you would go to Paris and satisfy yourself of the existence of Felix. Now, then, you remained two days in London. "Yes; I was not quite sure whether it was worth while carrying on the matter."