said he, "that the lamp was on a table near his bed when it
exploded. In a moment the whole room was afire, and you, no doubt, being
asleep at the time, he lifted you up and ran with you down the stairway
and out of the open door. But in the meantime he had been horribly
burned, and he fell in a faint as soon as he reached the pavement.
Strangely enough you were unconscious for some moments, although you
were not badly burned. Probably it was the smoke."

Then no one knows, thought I, what really did happen that night. The
lamp must have fallen almost directly upon Rayel's head, and the oil had
no doubt saturated his hair and clothing.

"And the house?" I asked. "Is that--"

"In ashes," he replied.

Then every trace of that strange event, which no eye save mine had
witnessed, was wiped out forever. The hideous secret had better never be
told.

"If I was not badly burned, tell me why I have been lying ill."

"Brain fever, my boy," said he. "Too much excitement, I presume--but
you're out of danger now, and will be on your feet again in a few days."

Fortunately the latter assurance was rightly spoken. The first day
that brought me strength enough to put on my clothes and walk about the
house, Mr. Earl invited me into the library to talk business. We were
no sooner seated than he unlocked a drawer and handed me a document to
read.

It was a deed of all my father's real and personal property.

"They have both confessed," said he.

"Confessed what?" I asked, wondering if the secret of my father's death
had come out.

"The conspiracy against your life. There were two accomplices--one Count
de Montalle, formerly a servant of Cobb, and now a convict in America,
and the other a man named Fenlon, who is under arrest. These were the
men who tried to take your life. Fenlon came over on the steamer with
you, I believe."

"And my stepmother--where is she?"

"Gone to answer for her sins at a higher court," said he. "Her last
deposition is annexed to the deed. The old hussy ran into the fire like
a miller, and stood there screaming, 'Look at that picture on the
wall! Oh, God! do you see it?' she shouted to the fellow who found her
standing in the smoke and flames. The chap was so excited he really
thought that he did see the picture of a woman holding a knife."

"That is strange, isn't it?" said I. "Who was the man?"

"A detective," said he, "whom I hired to watch the house that night. He
heard some disturbance, it s