did, I should have to speak of these matters here and now, while
they are fresh in my mind. I am obeying the solemn injunctions of the
dead. Two days after the murder William Durgin came to Torrini and
confessed the deed, offering to share with him a large sum in gold
and notes if he would hide the money temporarily. Torrini agreed to
do so. Later Durgin confided to him his plan of turning suspicion
upon you, Mr. Shackford; indeed, of directly charging you with the
murder, if the worst came to the worst. Torrini agreed to that also,
because of some real or fancied injury at your hands. It seems that
the implement which Durgin had employed in forcing the scullery
door--the implement which he afterwards used so mercilessly--had been
stolen from your workshop. The next morning Durgin put the tool back
in its place, not knowing what other disposition to make of it, and
it was then that the idea of shouldering the crime upon you entered
his wicked heart. According to Torrini, Durgin did not intend to harm
the old gentleman, but simply to rob him. The unfortunate man was
awakened by the noise Durgin made in breaking open the safe, and
rushed in to his doom. Having then no fear of interruption, Durgin
leisurely ransacked the house. How he came across the will, and
destroyed it with the idea that he was putting the estate out of your
possession--this and other details I shall give you by and by."

Father O'Meara paused a moment. "After the accident at the mill
and the conviction that he was not to recover, Torrini's conscience
began to prick him. When he reflected on Miss Slocum's kindness to
his family during the strike, when he now saw her saving his wife and
children from absolute starvation, he was nearly ready to break the
oath with which he had bound himself to William Durgin. Curiously
enough, this man, so reckless in many things, held his pledged word
sacred. Meanwhile his wavering condition became apparent to Durgin,
who grew alarmed, and demanded the stolen property. Torrini refused
to give it up; even his own bitter necessities had not tempted him to
touch a penny of it. For the last three days he was in deadly terror
lest Durgin should wrest the money from him by force. The poor woman,
here, knows nothing of all this. It was her presence, however, which
probably prevented Durgin from proceeding to extremities with
Torrini, who took care never to be left alone."

"I recollect," said Richard, "the night I watched wit