"Doesn't the warrant tell you," replied his companion, not at all upset. "My name is Billy Hurd. I am the detective in charge of the Norman murder case. And I've been looking for you for a long time, Mr. Jessop." "I know nothing about it." "Yes, you do; so sit down and talk away." "I'll break your head," cried the captain, swinging his huge fists. "Try," Hurd whipped out his revolver, but did not rise, "at the risk of getting a bullet through you. Pshaw, man, don't be a fool. I'm making things as easy for you as possible. Create a disturbance, and I'll hand you over to the police. A night in the village lock-up may cool your blood. Sit down I tell you." The sailor showed his teeth like those of a snarling dog and made as to strike the seated detective; but suddenly changing his mind, for he saw well enough in what danger he stood, he dropped into his chair, and, covering his face with his hands, groaned aloud. Hurd put away his revolver. "That's better," said he, pleasantly; "take a tot of rum and tell me all you know." "I'm innocent," groaned Jessop. "Every man is innocent until convicted by a jury," said Hurd, calmly. "Consider me a jury and I'll size up your case, when I hear all. Are you innocent of both murders?" "Lady Rachel committed suicide," said Jessop, raising a haggard face. "Yes--I stick to that, sir. As to Krill's death in London, I didn't touch him; I swear I didn't." "But you saw him on that night?" "How can you prove that?" "Very simply. Norman--or Krill if you prefer the old name--took certain jewellery to Pash for safe keeping shortly before his death. You presented to Pash a paper, undeniably written and signed by the old man, saying that the jewellery was to be given up to bearer. Now, before taking the jewellery to Pash, Krill could not have written that paper, so you must have seen him during the few hours which elapsed between his visit to Pash and his death." This was clearly argued, and Jessop could not contradict. "I left him quite well and hearty." "In the cellar in Gwynne Street?" "Yes, in the cellar," admitted Jessop. "At what time?" "About half-past eight--say between eight and nine." "Well, what happened?" asked Hurd, smoking quietly. The sailor twisted his big hands and groaned. Then he laid his head on the table and began to sob, talking brokenly and huskily. "I'm done for," he gasped. "I'd know'd it would come--no--I ain't sorry. I've had a nightmare of a time. Oh--since I pawned that brooch--" "Ah. Then you did pawn the brooch at Stowley?" Jessop sat up and wiped his eyes. "Yes, I did. But I pulled my cap down over my eyes and buttoned up my pea-jacket. I never thought old Tinker would ha' knowed me." "Wasn't it rather rash of you to pawn the brooch in a place where you were well known?"