For the moment I felt but little surprise, as I thought Olivia was but making the same mistake she had made formerly. Yet when I noted that she knew the true date of her lover's return, and remarked the strange expression on the face of Rose, I became instinctively convinced that she spoke the truth. It was Francis Briarfield who stood before me, and the dead man was Felix. How the change of personality had taken place I was unable to guess, but nevertheless felt that it was true. Rose Gernon, with a look of disappointed rage, was the first to speak. She stamped her foot, and laughed scornfully. "This is ridiculous," she said contemptuously; "it was Francis who died. He----" "Francis did not die, as you well know," interrupted the young man. "Felix fell into his own trap, and for safety I assumed his name. I believe you were aware of this all along." "How can that be? And if I really did know you were Francis, why did you not say so?" "Because I did not wish to betray myself. For aught I know you slew my brother, and were quite capable of accusing me of his murder." Rose evaded this question, and, tossing her head with a sneer, moved toward the door. Before she could reach it I blocked her passage. "Not yet, Miss Gernon," said I meaningly. "Though we have discovered Felix to be Francis, we do not know how the former met with his death." "I cannot tell you." "I think you can," said Olivia quickly, "seeing Felix by your own confession made all arrangements with you." "And yet Felix is dead," scoffed Rose. "He fell into his own trap." "I don't know how he died," she said resolutely. "As regards that, I am as ignorant as you are, though I believe Francis killed him." "Ah! You then acknowledge me to be Francis?" "I acknowledge nothing. Let me pass, Mr. Denham. I have to attend to my business." "Not till you tell me where your so-called father, Strent, is to be found." "I don't know," she said sullenly. "Yes, you do," persisted Olivia, "and you shall not leave this room till you tell all." "If I do not go to the theater, I shall be ruined." "That does not matter to us," said Francis mercilessly. The woman looked at our three faces, and, seeing therein no hope of mercy, compromised the matter. "Let me have a night to think over it," she entreated anxiously. "No," said Francis and Olivia in one breath, "you must tell all now." "There is no time," she urged; "I am late as it is: I must go." "Let me speak, Briarfield," I interposed, seeing he was about to refuse again. "We do not want to make a public scandal of this--as yet." Francis consulted Olivia with a look and turned to me. "You know more about this case than anyone else," he said quietly. "Miss Bellin and myself are quite prepared to leave the matter in your hands."