aire and locking them up in one of the pigeon-holes. Then he turned
to Gabrielle, whose large luminous eyes met his unhesitatingly. She even
smiled slightly--a frank engaging smile, as she remarked:

"And now, monsieur, any more questions?"

Crewe smiled back at her.

"You have told a remarkable story, mademoiselle, and corroborated it with
two important pieces of evidence, which are in themselves almost
sufficient to carry conviction," he said. "But the Scotland Yard police
are a suspicious lot, and it is necessary for me to have further
information in order to convince them--if I am to help you as you wish."

Gabrielle flashed a look of gratitude at Crewe. She understood from his
words that he believed her story and was disposed to help her, although
the police of Scotland Yard might prove harder to convince than him.

"Bah! those police agents--they are the same everywhere," she exclaimed.
"They deal so much with crime that their minds get the taint, and between
the false and true they cannot tell the difference. _Que voulez-vous?_
They are but small in brains. With you, the case is different. You have
it here--and there." She touched her temples lightly with a finger of
each hand. "Proceed, monsieur: ask me what questions you will. I shall
endeavour to answer them."

"You said that as you were hiding behind the curtains on the stairway
landing, Pierre, your husband, rushed down past you. You are quite sure
it was he?"

"Of that, monsieur, unfortunately there is no doubt. I saw his face quite
distinctly when he passed me, and when he turned round."

"The light would be shining from behind, and would not reveal his face
very closely," suggested Crewe.

"Nevertheless, monsieur, it was quite sufficient for me to see Pierre
clearly. His head was half-turned as he ran, as though he was looking
back expecting to see the judge rise up and punish him for his dreadful
deed, and I saw him _en silhouette_, oh, most distinctly--impossible him
to mistake. I called softly--'Pierre!' just like that, and he turned his
face right round, and then with a cry he disappeared along the path."

"About what time was this?"

"The time--it was half-past ten, for that was the time I was to be there
according to the letter the judge sent me."

"But are you sure it was half-past ten? Weren't you early? Wasn't it just
about ten o'clock?"

"No, monsieur," she replied sadly. "If it had been ten o'clock I would
have been in time to sa