He ran on and then Brendon seemed to come to himself.

“Talk about poor Albert Redmayne,” he said.

“There’s little to be added to what you know.  Since Pendean chooses to keep dumb, at any rate until he’s extradited, we can only assume exactly what happened; but I have no doubt of the details.  It was Pendean, of course, you saw leave the villa, while his wife held you in conversation, and so ordered her falsehoods that you were swept away from every other consideration save how best to rescue her from her husband.

“She took good care to involve your own future and to say just what was most likely to make you forget your trust.  My dear, dear Albert, forgive me if I am blunt; but when you look back, presently, you will see that the great loss is really mine, not yours.  Michael Pendean, once out of sight, gets a boat, adopts his disguise—­the false beard and mustache found upon him—­and presently rows round to Albert’s steps.  He sees Assunta, who does not recognize him, and says that he has come from Virgilio Poggi, who is at death’s door at Bellagio.

“There was no weightier temptation possible than that.  Redmayne forgets every other consideration and in five minutes has started for Bellagio.  The boat is quickly in mid-lake under the darkness and there Albert meets his death and burial.  Pendean undoubtedly murdered him with a blow—­probably just as he murdered Robert and Bendigo Redmayne; then, no doubt, he used weights, heavy stones brought for the purpose, and sank his victim in the tremendous depths of Como.  He was soon back again with a clean boat and his disguise in his pocket.  He had an alibi also, for we found out that he had been drinking for more than hour at an albergo before he came back to the villa.”

“Thank you,” said Brendon humbly.  “There can be no doubt that it was so.  And now I will ask a final favour, Ganns.  What happened has made my mind a blank in some particulars.  I should be thankful and grateful if you would retrace your steps when you were in England.  I want to go over that ground again.  You will not be at the trial; but I must be; and, praise God, this is the last time I shall ever appear in a court of law.”

He referred to a determination that he had already expressed:  to leave the police service and seek other occupation for the remainder of his life.

“That’s as may be,” answered Peter, bringing out the gold snuffbox.  “I hope you’ll think better of it.  You’ve had a bitter experience and learned a great deal that will help you in business as well as in life.  Don’t be beaten by a bad woman—­only remember that you had the luck to meet and study one of the rarest female crooks our mysterious Creator ever turned out.  A face like an angel and a heart like a devil.  Let time pass and presently you’ll see that this is merely a hiatus in a career that is only begun.  Much good and valuable work lies before you; and to abandon a profession for which you are specially suited is to fly in the face of Providence anyway.”