frequent his hotel, there would be talk little short of scandal."

"I quite agree with you. So you walked in secret?"

"Yes. And it was while we were out together that the cross she was
wearing became unfastened and fell. I most clumsily, stepped on it,
greatly marring the setting.

"She was distressed, of course, but I said I would take it to a
jeweler's and have it repaired without any one being the wiser. She
agreed that was best. So I took it--"

"To Mrs. Darcy's place, and she was found murdered!" broke in the old
detective quickly.

Aaron Grafton started from his chair.

"How in the name of Heaven did you know that?" he cried. "I thought
that not a soul but I knew it. I did not even tell Cynthia!"

"The explanation is simple," said the colonel. "I will be almost as
frank with you as you have been with me. I know more about you than
you think. Wait a moment."

The colonel stepped into a closet. He made a few rapid changes in his
clothing and took off a tiny bit of eyebrow, which had been added to
his own a short time before. Then he confronted the merchant.

"The man I saw in the jewelry store!" gasped Grafton. "I remember,
now, seeing you there the day I went to look for the diamond cross."

"And didn't find it," said the detective. "I wondered what so
perturbed you, but now I know. At first I did think you might know
something of the murder--"

"God forbid!" said the merchant earnestly and reverently.

"Amen!" echoed the colonel. "You have told such a straightforward
story that I can not doubt you. That is why I revealed myself to you.
But you must keep my secret if I am to help you. I am known in
Colchester as Colonel Brentnall, having registered at the hotel under
that name. I will keep that name for the present. I followed you
here--in fact, I only entered this office a minute or two ahead of you.
So it was to find the diamond cross you visited the store of the
murdered woman?"

"Yes. When I had damaged the cross by stepping on it, I thought my old
friend, Mrs. Darcy, would be the best one to keep my secret. I took
the cross to her the night before she was killed, and she promised to
have her cousin fix it without telling him whose it was and get it back
to me, secretly, in a day or so.

"I thought Cynthia could then wear it again without her husband knowing
it had ever been out of her possession. But the murder changed all my
plans. As soon as I could, I went to the