o join me, sociable like. By an' by she got to
tellin' me about 'erself. It appears she wasn't really French, but was
born at Dunwold, a village in Sussex, an' lived there till she was grown
up, after which she went abroad. Then she says to me, of a sudden: 'I
met a man to-day--'"

"One moment!" Jimmie interrupted. He took a note-book and pencil from
his pocket, and jotted down a few lines. "Please resume now," he added.
"What did the deceased tell you?"

"She told me that she'd met a man on Regent street from her native
English village, meaning Dunwold," Mrs. Rickett went on, "and that he
give her a bad fright. 'Is he an enemy of yours?' I asked. 'Yes, a
bitter one,' she says, 'an' I'm mortal afraid of him. An' the worst of
it is I'm sure he saw me, though I give 'im the slip by going into Swan
and Edgar's at one door and out at another. If he finds me, Mrs. Rickett,
'e'll kill me.' I told 'er not to worrit 'erself, an' I clean furgot the
matter till the next night, when the pore dear creature was stabbed to
the 'eart. I thought I should 'ave lost my 'ead, what with the crowds
that gathered, an' the police in the 'ouse, an' the doctors a viewin'
the departed corpse, an'--"

Jimmie checked her by a gesture.

"Are you sure you have told me everything?" he asked.

"Every blessed word, sir. It's the first and only time the woman spoke
to me of 'erself."

Jimmie jotted down a few more notes, and his hand shook like a leaf, so
greatly was he thrilled by the value of his discovery. Then he put Mrs.
Rickett through a cross-examination, in what he flattered himself was a
strictly legal style. Certainly Mr. Tenby could not have done it better,
for the landlady had nothing more to tell.

"I 'ope you're satisfied," she said. "And you won't forget what you
promised--that I shouldn't get into trouble?"

"I'll see to that," Jimmie replied. "It can be easily managed. I trust
that what you have told me will lead to the acquittal of my friend. Here
are ten pounds for you, and, if all goes well, I shall probably add to
it at another time."

The landlady thrust the bank notes into her broad bosom. She was
overpowered by the munificence of the gift, and poured out her
gratitude copiously.

"I've just recollected something," she went on. "There's a secret closet
in the room where the pore woman lodged, an' last spring I 'appened to
show it to 'er. It sort of took 'er fancy, and--"

"Did the police find it or examine it?" cried