n as
Lucian had been. Disgusted at this result, he threw up his brief, and
called upon Diana and Denzil, with whom he had previously made an
appointment, to notify them of his inability to bring the matter to a
satisfactory conclusion.

"There is not the slightest chance of finding the assassin of Mr.
Vrain," said Link, after he had set forth at length his late failures.
"The more I go into the matter the more I see it."

"Yet you were so confident of doing more than I," said Lucian quietly.

Link turned sulkily, after the fashion of a bad loser.

"I did my best," he retorted gloomily. "No man can do more. Some crimes
are beyond the power of the law to punish for sheer lack of proof. This
is one of them; and, so far as I can see, this unknown assassin will be
punished on Judgment Day--not before."

"Then you don't think that Signor Ferruci is guilty?" said Diana.

"No. He has had nothing to do with the matter; nor has Mrs. Vrain
brought about the death in any way."

"You cannot say who killed my father?"

"Not for certain, but I suspect Wrent."

"Then why not find Wrent?" asked Diana bluntly.

"He has hidden his trail too well," began Link, "and--and----"

"And if you did find him," finished Denzil coolly, "he might prove
himself guiltless, after the fashion of Mrs. Vrain and Ferruci."

"He might, sir; there is no knowing. But since you think I have done so
little, Mr. Denzil, let me ask you who it is you suspect?"

"Dr. Jorce of Hampstead."

"Pooh! pooh!" cried Link, with contempt. "He didn't kill the man--how
could he, seeing he was at Hampstead on that Christmas Eve midnight, as
I found out from his servants?"

"I don't suspect him of actually striking the blow," replied Lucian,
"but I believe he knows who did."

"Not he! Dr. Jorce has too responsible a position to mix himself up in a
crime from which he gains no benefit."

"Why! what position does he hold?"

"He is the owner of a private lunatic asylum. Is it likely that a man
like him would commit a murder?"

"Again I deny that he did commit the crime; but I am certain, from the
very fact of his friendship with Ferruci, that he knows more than he
chooses to tell. Why should the Italian be intimate with the owner of a
private asylum--with a man so much beneath him in rank?"

"I don't know, sir. But if you suspect Dr. Jorce you had better see him
when he comes back from his holidays--in a month."

"Where is he now?"

"In Italy, and the Cou