knife.

The man stood at bay in the corner of the smoke-room with half a dozen
of us before him. The fellow had set his jaws fiercely, and there was
murder in his black eyes. Bramberger, however, had already been secured,
and handcuffs had been slipped upon him by the police.

"Now," cried Ray Raymond, "tell your story, Richardson. These two
blackguards must hear it before we hand them over." And I noticed that
near me were two policemen, who had covered Freeman with their
revolvers.

From among us a rough man in a shabby pea-jacket, whom I had seen once
or twice in that inn, came forward, and without a word of preliminary
exclaimed:

"Jim Pavely, the poor fellow whom these accursed foreigners murdered,
was my brother-in-law. The night before he was killed he slept at my
house. He was drunk, but he told me something that at first I didn't
believe. He told me that on the previous day, spending so much time
about this place, he had stumbled on the fact that a certain German
timber-ship was in the habit of bringing up among its cargo a quantity
of saccharine which was smuggled ashore at night and stored in the
cellars below here. He had had words with the landlord Bramberger, but
the latter had made him promise to keep his secret till next morning,
when he would pay him a certain sum to say nothing to the Customs
officers. Next afternoon at four o'clock he went to the 'Goat and
Binnacle' to receive the money, and I entered after him, intending to
assist him in getting all he could out of the German. But that fellow
Freeman, yonder--whom I know to be also a German--was with his
compatriot, and the three had consultation together in the back room.
Half an hour later Jim Pavely came back to my house and showed me fifty
pounds, and a written agreement signed by Bramberger to pay one hundred
and fifty pounds more in gold in Calais, on condition that he remained
abroad and held his tongue."

Then the informer paused.

"Go on," I urged. "What then?"

"Pavely told me something--something he had discovered. But I foolishly
laughed his statement to scorn. He added that he was to sail in a French
schooner that night, and that Freeman, who was in partnership with
Bramberger, was to go over to Latchingdon with him that evening and
introduce him to the skipper, who would land him at Calais. When he had
gone, the story he had told me struck me as very astounding; therefore I
resolved to follow him. I saw him come with Freeman