"No. I'll tell her as little as possible. No one, but you, I, and Parkins, know of the events of last night. My poor father has been reported ill for some time and has always been so eccentric, so it will surprise no one to hear he has gone mad. We will place him in some private asylum, and----" "No, Allen," said Mrs. Hill firmly, "the poor soul is harmless. After all, wickedly as he has acted, he has been severely punished, and is my husband. I'll keep him here and look after him till the end comes--and that won't be long," sighed Mrs. Hill. "Very good, mother, you shall act as you think fit. But we know the truth now." "Yes, save who murdered Mr. Strode." "I believe Jerry did, or Giles." "They both deny doing so." "Of course," said Allen contemptuously, "to save their own skins. I shall go up to London, mother, and tell Mr. Mask what has taken place." But there was no need for Allen to go to town. That afternoon the lawyer arrived and with him a small boy with one eye. The lad was neatly dressed, he had his hair cut, and his face washed. In spite of his one eye and white cheeks he looked a very smart youngster, and grinned in a friendly manner at Allen and Horace. "This," said Mr. Mask, leading the lad into the room, where the young men were smoking after luncheon, "is Master Train----" "Butsey?" said Allen. "Oh no," replied Mask gravely, "he is a gentleman of property now and is living on his money. You mustn't call him by so low a name as Butsey." The boy grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "I saiy, how long's this a-goin' on?" he inquired; "you've been shying fun at me all day." "We won't shy fun any more," said Mr. Mask in his melancholy voice. "I have brought you here to make a clean breast of it." "About the diamonds?" "We know about the diamonds," said Horace. "I guess Father Don's got them." "Saikes! hes he?" said Butsey regretfully; "that comes of me tellin' about the letter I guv to you"--this was to Mask--"if he hadn't opened the hand, he wouldn't have got 'em." "You are quite wrong, Butsey," said Allen, rising. "Horace, I'll leave the boy in your keeping. Mr. Mask, will you come with me into the next room?" Rather surprised, Mask did so, and was speedily put in possession of the terrible story. He quite agreed that the matter should be kept quiet. "Though I hope it won't be necessary to rake it up when Butsey is tried for murder." "What! did that boy shoot Mr. Strode?" "I think so," said the lawyer, looking puzzled; "but to tell you the truth I'm not sure. I can't get the boy to speak freely. He said he would do so, only in the presence of you and Parkins. That is why I brought him down." "How did you get hold of him?" "Through one of the stolen notes. Butsey presented himself at the bank and cashed ten pounds. He was arrested and brought to me. I gave bail for him, and brought him to explain." "Where did he get the notes?"