"It's a plot," said Conniston, at length, while Bernard gazed despairingly into the burning logs. "This fellow who resembled you and who took your name is the assassin." "How do you make that out?" "Why! He was in the kitchen before six and was sent for by your grandfather. He at once left. Then he came back after ten and was admitted by Mrs. Gilroy, who might have made a mistake." "She could not mistake another man for me." "I don't know. This fellow evidently was your double, or at least was made up to resemble you. But that would not be easy," added Conniston, staring at his friend, "for you have no beard or mustache, and it is difficult to make up like another chap without such aids. At least I should think so. And remember the lamp in the hall did not give a very good light--so Durham told me. The housemaid saw you only in that light, and therefore might have mistaken you for the fellow who courted her. Mrs. Gilroy----" "She saw me in the full glare of the light in the sitting-room. She recognized me." "Yes. But according to her evidence she only admitted your double just after ten and introduced him into the sitting-room. She did not see him save under the hall lamp." "That is true. But my grandfather would soon detect the imposition." "Quite right," rejoined Dick, smoothly, "he did, and then the assassin murdered him after stifling him with the chloroform." "But you forget my grandfather was a passionate man. He might and probably would have made a scene. Mrs. Gilroy below would have heard the row and would have come up." "She may be lying when she declares she heard nothing," admitted Dick. "On the other hand, the assassin may have crossed directly over to your grandfather and have stifled his cries by placing the handkerchief at once over his mouth. Then he could strangle him at his leisure and clear out, as he did." "And then Mrs. Gilroy runs up, finds the dead, and rushes out to accuse me. I must have been brought in the nick of time," said Bernard, ironically. "No, Dick, there's more in it than that. Mrs. Gilroy is in the plot whomsoever contrived it." "Why, Beryl contrived it. He wanted the money." "Was he in the house at the time?" "No. He didn't commit the crime himself, if that is what you mean. He with Miss Randolph was at the Curtain Theatre, which is near Crimea Square. He drove up in his friend's Mrs. Webber's carriage just when the row was on." "Yes." Bernard passed his hand across his forehead. "I should have remembered that. I was in the hall at the time with the hand of the policeman on my shoulder. But I have grown so confused, Dick, that it's all like a dream." "A nightmare rather. But why do you think Mrs. Gilroy is----" "Is in the plot. Because, before she accused me, she said to herself, but loud enough for me to hear, 'It's the only way!'" "Ha, ho!" said Conniston, excited, "you can swear to that."