me.'"

"Great heaven!" exclaimed Mr. Neuilly; "if she had those papers they
would prove that her marriage to your cousin was illegal, and that would
make the marriage to Rose's mother perfectly regular."

"Exactly so. I paid the woman ten thousand dollars, or the equivalent
of that sum, for those documents. Were they not worth it?"

"Indeed, indeed they are. I would have given twice the sum."

"Now let me show you the audacity of the woman. She told me that in case
I should refuse to pay her price, she intended to claim me as her
husband, exhibiting her certificate, and leaving me to prove, if I
could, that she had married my cousin and not myself. This, you see,
would have been most unpleasant, and as the papers were well worth the
price, in clearing the name of my cousin and his wife and child, I paid
over the money."

"I must again ask you," said Mr. Barnes, "for proof that you are not the
woman's husband."

"Does not the fact that she sold me those papers indicate that?"

"Not at all," replied the detective. "Supposing you to be really her
husband, wishing to be married to Miss Remsen, you would readily pay the
woman her price for the paper which proved that your marriage to her had
been fraudulent. You might have found it difficult to prove the
existence of her first husband without knowing his name, even though she
had given you the hint that there was such a person."

"I declare, Mr. Barnes, you are a doubting Thomas. But I will give you
one more bit of evidence." He went to his desk and returned with some
papers. "Here is a confession which I exacted from the woman at the time
that I made the bargain with her. You see, it confirms my story. But
even _that_ you might think manufactured. Here perhaps is better proof.
This," handing it to Mr. Neuilly, "is the certificate of the marriage
between my cousin and the Montalbon. As is sometimes done, you see, the
woman has pasted the likenesses of herself and my cousin upon the paper.
Now, Mr. Neuilly, I ask you, is not that the man who was known to you?"

"You are quite right, Mr. Mitchel. I recognize the face perfectly. This
is the man I have all along supposed to be a consummate villain. Now I
must confess that he was more sinned against than sinning. His one crime
was drinking, and the entanglement which wrecked his wife's life and his
own was but a wicked plot of which he was innocent. I am glad that it is
so, as it leaves the dear little girl without the