much of the house as I do," Tranter returned.

"As a practical man," Monsieur Dupont continued, "you may smile when I
speak of such a thing as 'psychic intuition.' But you may smile, and
again you may smile. I possess that intuition strongly. It has been of
great use to me. The moment I entered that house to-night, I knew it was
a house of sin. I knew there were hidden things in it--things that were
not for honest eyes to see. I do not say--at present--that they have any
connection with the crime. But they are there."

"I do not smile at such instincts," Tranter said. "I quite admit that
there is a strange, uncanny atmosphere about the place. And if there are
secrets in it, I am equally ready to admit that they are probably bad
ones."

"They are bad ones," declared Monsieur Dupont. "They could not be
anything but bad ones. When that excellent Inspector Fay has solved the
mystery of the garden, he would be wise to turn his attention to the
secrets of the house."

There was a pause.

"Did Layton kill her?" Tranter asked suddenly.

Monsieur Dupont shrugged his shoulders.

"The evidence is against him," he replied judicially. "Your Coroner's
jury will find him guilty, and the police will not look further. They
will build up a strong case. They will doubtless find that he was
cruelly treated by that poor girl, and was furious to know that she was
engaged to another man. He threatened, in the presence of many
witnesses, to kill her in a horrible way. He was seen later in the
garden, and afterwards she was found--killed in exactly that horrible
way. Who would not say that in his rage and jealousy he had fulfilled
his threat? Every one will be perfectly satisfied. It is enough for
justice if the most likely person is hanged. And, so far, he is not only
the most likely, but the only, person."

"Perhaps so," Tranter acknowledged. "But--he didn't look like a
murderer. He looked a good fellow. Is there no other alternative?"

"There _is_ an alternative," said Monsieur Dupont steadily.

"There is?"

"Yes."

Monsieur Dupont smoked composedly for a minute.

"My friend," he said--"are you inclined for an adventure?"

"I am rather busy," Tranter replied. "What is it?"

"Suppose ... I were to declare to you positively that James Layton is
innocent--that he did not commit that crime in the crooked garden
to-night--and that I do not intend to allow him to be hanged for a crime
that he did not commit--would you give a ce