's as innocent of the murder of Sir Horace
Fewbanks as Birchill is, but you cannot afford to make a false shot in
the case of a lady of her social standing, as you did with a criminal
like Birchill."

At this rebuke Rolfe gave way to irritation.

"Look here, Mr. Crewe, I'll thank you to mind your own business," he
said. "It's got nothing to do with you where I make inquiries. I'll have
you remember that! I don't interfere with you, and I won't have you
interfering with me."

"But I'm interfering only for your own good, man! What do you suppose I'm
doing it for? I tell you you're riding for a very bad fall in suspecting
Mrs. Holymead and shadowing her."

Crewe's plain words were an echo of a secret fear which Rolfe had
entertained from the time his suspicions were directed towards Mrs.
Holymead. But he was not going to allow Crewe to think he was alarmed.

"If I'm making inquiries about Mrs. Holymead, it's because I have ample
justification for doing so," he said stiffly.

"And I tell you that you have not."

"Prove it!" exclaimed Rolfe defiantly.

Crewe produced from his pocket a revolver and a lady's handkerchief, and
handed them to Rolfe without speaking.

Rolfe's embarrassment was almost equal to his astonishment as he examined
the articles. In the handkerchief with its missing corner, he speedily
recognised something for which he had searched in vain. He had never
confided to Crewe the discovery of the missing corner in the dead man's
hand, and therefore the production of the handkerchief by Crewe
considerably embarrassed him. He longed to ask Crewe how he had obtained
possession of the handkerchief, but he could not trust his voice to frame
the question without betraying his feelings, so he picked up the revolver
and examined it closely. Then he put it down and again gave his attention
to the handkerchief, bending his head over it so that Crewe should not
see his face.

"You do not seem very astonished at my finds, Rolfe," said Crewe
quizzically. "Perhaps you've seen these articles before?"

"No, I haven't," said Rolfe, still avoiding his visitor's eye.

"Well, the torn handkerchief is not exactly new to you," said Crewe.
"You've got the missing part; you found it in Sir Horace's hand after he
was murdered."

"You're too clever for me, and that's the simple truth, Mr. Crewe,"
said Rolfe, in a mortified tone. "I did find a small piece of a
lady's handkerchief in his hand, and here it is." He produced