“I beg you to listen, doctor,” she said at length, standing up. “I am in a most invidious position. Nevertheless, I think I can convince you that your suspicions against me are unfounded.” I laughed again. But secretly I admired her for acting the part so well. “Doubtless!” I interjected sarcastically, in the pause. “The man upstairs is Samuel Grist, supposed to be in Australia. It is four months ago since I, who am Adelaide Spanton’s sole friend, discovered that he was scheming her death. The skill of his methods appalled me. There was nothing to put before the police, and yet I had a horrible fear of the worst. I felt that he would stop at nothing--absolutely at nothing. I felt that, if we ran away, he would follow us. I had a presentiment that he would infallibly succeed, and I was haunted by it day and night. Then an idea occurred to me--I would pretend to be his accomplice. And I saw suddenly that that was the surest way--the sole way, of defeating him. I approached him and he accepted the bait. I carried out all his instructions, except the fatal instructions. It is by his orders, and for his purposes, that we are staying in this hotel. Heavens! To make certain of saving my darling Adelaide, I have even gone through the farce of promising to marry him!” “And do you seriously expect me to believe this?” I asked coldly. “Should I have had the solicitor here?” she demanded, “if I had really meant--meant to----” She sobbed momentarily, and then regained control of herself. “I don’t know,” I said, “but it occurs to me that the brain that was capable of deliberately arranging a murder to take place in the presence of the doctor might have some hidden purpose in securing also the presence of the solicitor at the performance.” “Mr. Grist is unaware that the solicitor is here. He has been informed that Mr. Dancer is my uncle, and favourable to the--to the----” she stopped, apparently overcome. “Oh, indeed!” I ejaculated, adding: “And after all you did not mean to administer this poison! I suppose you meant to withdraw the glass at the last instant?” “It is not poison,” she replied. “Not poison?” “No. I did not exchange the bottles. I only pretended to.” “There seems to have been a good deal of pretending,” I observed. “By the way, may I ask why you were giving this stuff, whether it is poison or not, to my patient? I do not recollect that I ordered a second dose.” “For the same reason that I pretended to change the bottle. For the benefit of the maid whom we saw just now in the bedroom.” “And why for the benefit of the maid?” “Because I found out this morning that she is in the pay of Grist. That discovery accounts for my nervousness to-night about Adelaide. By this time the maid has probably told Mr. Grist what has taken place, and, and--I shall rely on your help if anything should happen, doctor. Surely, surely, you believe me?”