ate this case. What do you
wish to hear?"

"Every thing, Miss Wardour, every thing. All that you can tell
concerning your acquaintance with Clifford Heath--all that you have seen
and know concerning John Burrill; all that you can recall of the sayings
and doings of the Lamottes. And remember, the things that may seem
unimportant or irrelevant to you, may be the very items that we lack to
complete what may be a chain of strong evidence in favor of the accused.
Allow me to question you from time to time, and, if I seem possessed of
too much information concerning your private affairs, do not be too
greatly astonished, but rest assured that all my researches have been
made to serve another, not to gratify myself."

"Where shall I begin, sir?"

"Begin where the first shadow of complication fell; begin at the first
word or deed of Doctor Heath's that struck you as being in any way
strange or peculiar."

She flushes hotly and begins her story.

She describes her first impression of Doctor Heath, touching lightly
upon their acquaintance previous to the time of the robbery at Wardour.
Then she describes, very minutely, the first call made by Doctor Heath,
after that affair.

"One moment, Miss Wardour, you told Doctor Heath all that you knew
concerning the robbery."

"I did, sir;" coloring rosily.

"And you exhibited to him the vial of chloroform and the piece of
cambric?"

"I did."

"At this point you were interrupted by callers, and Doctor Heath left
rather abruptly?"

"Precisely, sir."

"Who were these callers?"

"Mr. Lamotte and his son."

"Had you any reason for thinking that Doctor Heath purposely avoided a
meeting with these gentlemen?"

"Not at that time;" flushing slightly.

"Go on, Miss Wardour."

She resumes her story, telling all that she can remember of the call, of
Frank's return, and of Sybil's letter.

"About this letter, I would rather not speak, Mr. Wedron; it can not
affect the case."

"It _does_ affect the case," he replies quickly. "Pray omit no details
just here."

She resumes: telling the story of that long day, of Clifford Heath's
second visit, and of the news of Sybil Lamotte's flight.

She tells how, at sunset, she opened the strange letter, and how,
bewildered and startled out of herself, she put it into Clifford Heath's
hands, and called upon him to advise her.

Almost word for word she repeats his comments, and then she hesitates.

"Go on," says Mr. Wedron, impatient