“Perhaps you are right; and as no truth or principle will be sacrificed, we had better keep these facts out of the case. Besides, what doctors do in the cause of science and humanity is hardly a fit theme for public comment. In a great murder case, within my knowledge, some of the strongest evidence in regard to the identification of the victim was withheld to spare the feelings of a witness, and to avoid low remarks in public. It is a safe precedent, and I think Mr. Lowe will consent to keep this evidence out of court, especially as it proves nothing. It was wrong in you to mutilate the corpse; but to expose you would do a greater wrong by lacerating the feelings of the dead man’s friends, if they should hear of it, and by outraging the delicacy of the community generally. Pass this by; we will arrange it by and by.” “Is the suppression of this evidence all I am to gain?” asked the doctor. “No; here is the deposition of Sandy McGuire,” replied Dick, taking the document from his pocket. “I shall rebut your evidence with it, if necessary, and prove that ‘Dr. Bilks’s baby’ was a myth. You will save this.” “My God!” groaned the doctor. “You will be proved to be a liar in all this story.” “Where did you get this?” “It was done in due form, you perceive, before a magistrate, and has the seal of a commissioner for this state in New York upon it. Sandy McGuire spent and lost all the money you paid him, and then got into a fight, killed his man, and was sent to the state prison for life. I was in New York city at the time, looking up Buckstone’s affairs. I went to him; did what I could for him. As his money was all gone, he had no incentive to keep your secret any longer. Here is the whole truth in this paper; and I can support it with other witnesses. Unless you make it necessary, the document need not be used.” Dr. Lynch paced the room in violent agitation. This time he was defeated. It was useless to contend. Dick had him in his toils. “One thing more, doctor; I have the original letter which I wrote to Buckstone, and which you threw away upon the beach.” “I threw it overboard with a stone in it.” “It was found on the rocks, by a witness who will testify to the fact, if called upon.” “Mr. Birch, I am in your power. Do with me as you will,” groaned the doctor. “I will confess whatever you say.” “Confess the truth. I have three or four letters written by you to Buckstone.” “Spare me, if you can! Let me leave the town at once.” “No; now sit down, and write a full confession of your agency in the affair; tell the whole truth; and I pledge you my honor, that, beyond the simple facts necessary to vindicate my good name, none of it shall be made public.” Dr. Lynch sat down at the table, and commenced writing, and Dick went down to his supper. CHAPTER XXVI. THE PENITENT DEMIGOD.