eared; a weight seemed removed from
his mind. "When I went into the alcove to see Mrs. Fairbrother, she was
sitting in a chair near this window looking out. I remember the effect
of her splendor against the snow sifting down in a steady stream behind
her. The pink velvet--the soft green of the curtains on either side--her
brilliants--and the snow for a background! Yes, the murderer came in
that way. Her figure would be plain to any one outside, and if she moved
and the diamond shone--Don't you see what a probable theory it is?
There must be ways by which a desperate man might reach that balcony. I
believe--"

How eager he was and with what a look he turned when the word came
filtering through the crowd that, though footsteps had been found in the
snow pointing directly toward the balcony, there was none on the balcony
itself, proving, as any one could see, that the attack had not come
from without, since no one could enter the alcove by the window without
stepping on the balcony.

"Mr. Durand has suspicions of his own," I explained determinedly to
myself. "He met some one going in as he stepped out. Shall I ask him to
name this person?" No, I did not have the courage; not while his face
wore so stern a look and was so resolutely turned away.

The next excitement was a request from Mr. Ramsdell for us all to go
into the drawing-room. This led to various cries from hysterical lips,
such as, "We are going to be searched!" "He believes the thief and
murderer to be still in the house!" "Do you see the diamond on me?" "Why
don't they confine their suspicions to the favored few who were admitted
to the alcove?"

"They will," remarked some one close to my ear.

But quickly as I turned I could not guess from whom the comment came.
Possibly from a much beflowered, bejeweled, elderly dame, whose eyes
were fixed on Mr. Durand's averted face. If so, she received a defiant
look from mine, which I do not believe she forgot in a hurry.

Alas! it was not the only curious, I might say searching glance I
surprised directed against him as we made our way to where I could see
my uncle struggling to reach us from a short side hall. The whisper
seemed to have gone about that Mr. Durand had been the last one to
converse with Mrs. Fairbrother prior to the tragedy.

In time I had the satisfaction of joining my uncle. He betrayed great
relief at the sight of me, and, encouraged by his kindly smile,
I introduced Mr. Durand. My conscious ai