Jessop, resting his hands on the arms of his chair, pushed it back and stared with a white face. "You know of that?" he gasped. "Why not? It was public talk in this place over twenty years ago. I understand you have been here-abouts for thirty years," went on Hurd, carelessly, "possibly you may recollect the case." Jessop wiped his forehead. "I heard something about it. That there lady committed suicide they say." "I know what they say, but I want to know what you say?" "I won't be arsked questions," shouted the captain, angrily. "Don't raise your voice," said the detective, smoothly; "we may as well conduct this conversation pleasantly." "I don't converse no more," said Jessop in a shaky voice, and staggered to his feet, rapidly growing sober under the influence of a deadly fear. Hurd did not move as the man crossed the room, but felt if the key was safe in his pocket. The sailor tried to open the door, and then realized that it was locked. He turned on his host with a volley of bad language, and found himself facing a levelled revolver. "Sit down," said Hurd, quietly; "go back to your chair." Jessop, with staring eyes and outspread hands, backed to the wall. "Who are you anyhow?" he demanded, hardly able to speak. "Perhaps that will tell you," said Hurd, and threw the warrant on the table. Jessop staggered forward and looked at it. One glance was sufficient to inform him what it was, and he sank back into his chair with a groan, leaving the warrant on the table. Hurd picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. He thought Jessop might destroy it; but there was no fight in the mariner. "And now that we understand one another," said Hurd, putting away his weapon, "I want to talk." "Sha'n't talk," said Jessop, savagely. "Oh, yes, I think so; otherwise I can make things unpleasant for you." "You can't arrest me. I've done nothing." "That may be so, but arrest you I can and I have done so now. To-morrow morning you will go to London in charge of a plain-clothes policeman, while I go to Stowley." "To my crib. No, I'm blest if you do." "I sha'n't go immediately to your crib," rejoined Hurd, dryly, "though I may do so later. My first visit will be to that old pawnbroker. I think if I describe you--and you are rather a noticeable man, Captain Jessop--he will recognize the individual who pawned an opal serpent brooch with him shortly after the death of Lady Rachel Sandal, to whom the said brooch belonged." "It's a lie," said Jessop hoarsely, and sober enough now. "Quite so, and perhaps it is also a lie that a man resembling yourself tried to get certain jewellery from a lawyer called Pash--" Jessop lost his self-control, which he was trying desperately to preserve, and rose to his feet, white-faced and haggard. "Who are you?" he shouted, "who are you?"