nce of being introduced to the great Cuff. In half a minute he was in
the room, and was giving his evidence as follows:

"That door, Sergeant," he said, "has been painted by Miss Verinder,
under my inspection, with my help, and in a vehicle of my own
composition. The vehicle dries whatever colours may be used with it, in
twelve hours."

"Do you remember when the smeared bit was done, sir?" asked the
Sergeant.

"Perfectly," answered Mr. Franklin. "That was the last morsel of the
door to be finished. We wanted to get it done, on Wednesday last--and I
myself completed it by three in the afternoon, or soon after."

"To-day is Friday," said Sergeant Cuff, addressing himself to
Superintendent Seegrave. "Let us reckon back, sir. At three on the
Wednesday afternoon, that bit of the painting was completed. The vehicle
dried it in twelve hours--that is to say, dried it by three o'clock on
Thursday morning. At eleven on Thursday morning you held your inquiry
here. Take three from eleven, and eight remains. That paint had
been EIGHT HOURS DRY, Mr. Superintendent, when you supposed that the
women-servants' petticoats smeared it."

First knock-down blow for Mr. Seegrave! If he had not suspected poor
Penelope, I should have pitied him.

Having settled the question of the paint, Sergeant Cuff, from that
moment, gave his brother-officer up as a bad job--and addressed himself
to Mr. Franklin, as the more promising assistant of the two.

"It's quite on the cards, sir," he said, "that you have put the clue
into our hands."

As the words passed his lips, the bedroom door opened, and Miss Rachel
came out among us suddenly.

She addressed herself to the Sergeant, without appearing to notice (or
to heed) that he was a perfect stranger to her.

"Did you say," she asked, pointing to Mr. Franklin, "that HE had put the
clue into your hands?"

("This is Miss Verinder," I whispered, behind the Sergeant.)

"That gentleman, miss," says the Sergeant--with his steely-grey eyes
carefully studying my young lady's face--"has possibly put the clue into
our hands."

She turned for one moment, and tried to look at Mr. Franklin. I say,
tried, for she suddenly looked away again before their eyes met. There
seemed to be some strange disturbance in her mind. She coloured up, and
then she turned pale again. With the paleness, there came a new look
into her face--a look which it startled me to see.

"Having answered your question, miss," says the