gloomy faced but mute interrogation point. He has just been
introduced to Mr. Wedron, and he is anxiously waiting to hear how these
two men propose to save from the gallows, a man who will make no effort
to save himself.

"Well!" repeats Mr. Wedron, "you have seen the prisoner?"

"We have seen him."

"And the result?"

"Was what you predicted. See, here in my note book, I have his very
words; you can judge for yourself."

O'Meara passes his note book across to his questioner, and the latter
reads rapidly, the short sentences scrawled by his host.

"So," he says, lifting his eyes from the note book. "Doctor Heath
refuses to defend himself. Mr. Vandyck," turning suddenly upon Ray, "sit
down, sir; draw your chair up here; I wish to look at you, sir."

Not a little astonished, but obeying orders like a veteran, Ray complies
mutely.

"Now then," says Mr. Wedron, with brisk good nature, "let's get down to
business. Mr. Vandyck, I am here to save Clifford Heath; I was at the
inquest; I have had long experience in this sort of business, and I
arrive at my conclusions rapidly, after a way of my own. O'Meara,
prepare to write a synopsis of our reasonings."

"Of _your_ reasonings," corrects the lawyer, drawing pen and paper
toward himself.

"Of my reasonings then. First; are you ready, O'Meara?"

"All ready."

"Well, then; and don't stop to be astonished at anything I may say.
First, Clifford Heath knows who stole his handkerchief; and who stole
his knife."

A grunt of approbation from O'Meara; a stare of astonishment from Ray.

"For some reason, Heath has resolved to screen the thief." Scratch,
scratch. "But he does not feel at all sure that the one who stole his
belongings is the one who struck the blow."

Ray stares in astonishment.

"Now then, there has been a plot on foot against Heath, and I believe
him to have been aware of it." He is looking at Ray, and that young man
starts guiltily.

"Put down this, O'Meara," says Mr. Wedron, suddenly withdrawing his
gaze. "Doctor Heath has nothing to blush for, in his past. He withholds
his story through pride, not through fear; but it may be necessary to
tell it in court, in order to prove that he _did not_ know John Burrill
previous to the meeting in Nance Burrill's cottage; and if he refuses to
tell his story, _I_ must tell it for him."

It is O'Meara's turn to be surprised, and he writes on with eager eyes
and bated breath.

"And now, O'Meara," concludes Mr