the evident impression that he was being tried for his life. Every
answer was wrung from this frightened youth, as with red-hot pincers,
and it was with the utmost difficulty anything consistent could be
extorted at all.

"About half-past six on Friday evening, Mr. Dicksey was rambling about
the grounds, in the direction of the laurel walk. In the open ground
it was still quite light, in the laurel walk it was growing dusk. As
he drew near, he heard voices in the laurel walk--angry voices, though
not very loud--the voices of a man and a woman. Peeped in and saw my
lady. Yes, it was my lady--yes, he was sure. Was it likely now he
wouldn't know my lady? The man was very tall, had a furrin-looking hat
pulled over his eyes, and stood with his back to him. He didn't see
his face. They were quarrelling and--well yes, he did listen. Heard
the man call her 'Ethel,' and ask for money. She wouldn't give it to
him. Then he asked for jewels. She refused again, and ordered him to
go. She was very angry--she stamped her foot once and said: 'If you
don't go instantly I'll call my husband. Between you and your sister
you will drive me mad.' When she said that, he guessed at once, who
the big furrin-looking man was. It was Miss Inez's brother, Mr. Juan
Catheron. Had heard tell of him often, and knew he had been at the
house the night of my lady's arrival, and that there had been a row."

Mr. Dicksey was here sharply reprimanded, informed that his suspicions
and hearsays were not wanted, and requested to come back to the point.
He came back.

"My lady wouldn't give him anything, then he got mad and said: (James
Dicksey had been vaguely impressed by these remarkable words at the
time, and had been silently revolving them ever since) 'Give me the