on him in pitiless calm.

"And now tell us about the pastor?" said the detective in a firm clear
voice.

"Oh, he was a dear, good gentleman," said No. 302 with an expression of
pitying sorrow on his face. "I owed him much gratitude; that's why I put
the roses in his hand."

"Yes, but you murdered him first."

"Of course, Gyuri told me to."

"And why?"

"He hated the pastor, for the old gentleman had no confidence in him."

"Is this true?" Muller turned to the doctor.

"I did not notice it," said Orszay with a voice that showed deep sorrow.

"And you?" Muller's eyes bored themselves into the orbs of the young
giant, now dulled with fear.

Gyuri started and shivered. "He looked at me sharply every now and
then," he murmured.

"And that was why he was killed?"

The warder's head sank on his breast.

"No, not only for that reason," continued No. 302. "Gyuri needed money
again. He ordered me to bring him the silver candlesticks off the
altar."

"Murder and sacrilege," said the detective calmly.

"No, I did not rob the church. When I had buried the reverend gentleman
I heard the cock crowing. I was afraid I might get home here too late
and I forgot the candlesticks. I had to stop to wash my hands in the
brook. While I was there I saw shepherd Janci coming along and I hid
behind the willows. He almost discovered me once, but Janci's a
dreamer, he sees things nobody else sees--and he doesn't see things that
everybody else does see. I couldn't help laughing at his sleepy face.
But I didn't laugh when I came back to the asylum. Gyuri was waiting for
me at the door. When he saw that I hadn't brought the candlesticks he
beat me and tortured me worse than he'd ever done before."

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Why, no; because I was afraid that if I told on him, I'd never be able
to go out again."

"And you, quite alone, could carry the pastor's body out of his room?"

"I am very strong."

"How did you arrange it that there should be no traces of blood to
betray you?"

"I waited until the body had stiffened, then I tied up the wound and
carried him down into the crypt."

"Why did you do that?"

"I didn't want to leave him in that horrid pool of blood."

"You were sorry for him then?"

"Why, yes; it looked so horrid to see him lying there--and he had
always been so good to me. He was so good to me that very evening when I
entered his study.

"He recognised you?

"Certainly. He sprang up from hi