"Precisely. Now you can understand, sir, why I infer that this man was a traitor. Evidently the negro--of whose presence Mrs. Boazoph informed me--was the emissary of the society, and killed this traitor by poison. Afterwards, as was natural, he obliterated the secret mark by drawing his knife across it." "He did not do his work thoroughly then, Doctor. The secret mark is a cross." "The secret mark is more than a cross, sir," replied the doctor, "else you may be sure that the negro would have obliterated it more perfectly." The detective replaced the sheet over the face of the dead: and prepared, as did the doctor, to leave the room. They turned down the gas and departed; but while descending the stairs, Renshaw asked Fanks a question. "Are you satisfied that my explanation is a correct one?" he demanded. "I am perfectly satisfied," said Fanks, looking directly at the man. Strange to say, this unhesitating acceptance appeared to render Renshaw uneasy; and the flow of his magnificent speech broke up in confusion. "I may be wrong," he muttered. "We are all liable to error; but such as it is, that is my opinion." "You would be willing to repeat that opinion at the inquest, Doctor?" Renshaw drew back with a shudder. "Is it necessary that I should go to the inquest?" he asked faintly. "I think so," replied Fanks significantly. "You were the first to see the corpse. You will have to describe the state in which you found it. Your address if you please?" "Twenty-four, Great Auk Street," said Renshaw, after some hesitation. "I am staying there at present." "Staying there?" "Yes! I--I--not practise in London. I do not practise at all, in fact. I travel--I travel a great deal. In two weeks I go to India." "You must go first to the inquest," responded Fanks dryly. "But if you do not practise in London, how comes it that Mrs. Boazoph sent for you?" "She did not send for me," explained the doctor, "but for my friend, Dr. Turnor; he is absent on a holiday, and I am acting as his locum tenens for a short period." "Thank you, Doctor; that is a thoroughly satisfactory explanation; quite as satisfactory as your theory of the death. Good evening. I should recommend a glass of brandy; you look as though you needed it." "Weak heart!" muttered Renshaw in explanation, and took his departure with evident relief. But before he left the hotel, he acted on the detective's suggestion. Mrs. Boazoph gave him the brandy with her own hands. The action afforded her an opportunity of exchanging a few words with him. Fanks thwarted her intent by also entering the bar, and asking for refreshment; whereupon, the doctor finished his liquor and departed. Left alone with Fanks, the landlady drew a breath of relief, and addressed herself to the detective. "Do you wish to know anything else, sir," she said coldly. "If not, with your permission, I shall retire to bed."