come into the park, and I knew that Marquis had arrived.

I met Sir Henry and the superintendent in the long corridor; they
had been looking in at my interview through the elevated grating.

"Marquis," I cried, "the judge was right to cut short the
criminal trial and issue a lunacy warrant. This creature is the
maddest lunatic in this whole asylum. The human mind is capable
of any absurdity."

Sir Henry looked at me with a queer ironical smile.

"The judge was wrong," he said. "The creature, as you call him,
is as sane as any of us."

"Then you believe this amazing story?" I said.

"I believe Rodman was found at daylight dead on the hearth, with
practically every bone in his body crushed," he replied.

"Certainly," I said. "We all know that is true. But why was he
killed?'

Again Sir Henry regarded me with his ironical smile.

"Perhaps," he drawled, "there is some explanation in the report
in your pocket, to the Monastic Head. It's only a theory, you
know."

He smiled, showing his white, even teeth.