"I don't think that he would have run away with her," replied Geoffrey. "He decided to give her up when he learnt the secret of his parentage. Now he has got over his love, and is quite willing that she should marry me. Poor Neil! He has had a bad time." "That could not have been prevented. I did my best to spare him the knowledge of his mother's fate. She asked me to make her the promise, and I did so. "Do you think she is guilty? "I really can't say," replied Mr. Cass with some hesitation. "When she was arrested I implored her to defend herself if she could. But she obstinately refused to open her mouth. She certainly never told me that Neil had killed his father." "Do you believe he did?" "No, certainly not. I believe the child got up from his bed in a dazed condition on suddenly waking out of the trance. He came into the room and found his father lying dead with the knife on the floor beside him. Naturally enough the child picked up the knife. Then, no doubt, his reason became unsettled, added to which the cold to which he was exposed that night when his mother fled, was altogether too much for him, and he fell seriously ill." "He remembers nothing of all that," Heron said. "I asked him myself. He remembers his childhood up to the time his mother put him to bed that night, or rather, I should say, up to the time when he struck at his father with the knife. His memory re-commences from the time of his recovery from the illness which followed, but the interval is a blank. Of course, he might have seen the assassin. But I am sure," continued Heron, firmly, "that his mother is not the guilty person. She denies having committed the murder, and says she was silent on Neil's account." "Does she suspect anyone?" asked Mr. Cass; and Heron noticed that he did not give an opinion as to her guilt or innocence. "No, she cannot think who did it. I asked her about the links, or rather about the part of one which Ruth found under the window. I suppose, she told you of her discovery?" "Yes, she did. By the way, have you the link with you?" Heron took it out of his pocket-book and laid it on the table. "It is a curious one," he said. "The pattern is an odd one and not in very good taste." "Oh, I don't know," Mr. Cass said, with studied carelessness. "I have seen the same kind of thing. They were in vogue some years ago. Each oval has a different design on it--a ballet girl, a bottle, a horse, and a pack of cards. They were known as the 'four vices.' What does Mrs. Jenner say about this?" "She cannot think who can have worn them; she says she never saw such a set before." Had Geoffrey Heron been an observant man he would have seen a distinct expression of relief pass over the face of his host; but he remarked nothing, and Mr. Cass went on.