“‘Why, in the name of common-sense,’ he cried, ’should I have chosen that moment, of all others, to send my brother back to the grave?’ For a moment the Inspector did not answer him.  I do not know if any of you gentlemen are acquainted with Inspector Lyle, but if you are not, I can assure you that he is a very remarkable man.  Our firm often applies to him for aid, and he has never failed us; my father has the greatest possible respect for him.  Where he has the advantage over the ordinary police-official is in the fact that he possesses imagination.  He imagines himself to be the criminal, imagines how he would act under the same circumstances, and he imagines to such purpose that he generally finds the man he wants.  I have often told Lyle that if he had not been a detective he would have made a great success as a poet or a playwright.

“When Arthur turned on him, Lyle hesitated for a moment, and then told him exactly what was the case against him,

“‘Ever since your brother was reported as having died in Africa,’ he said, ’your lordship has been collecting money on post-obits.  Lord Chetney’s arrival, last night, turned them into waste-paper.  You were suddenly in debt for thousands of pounds—­for much more than you could ever possibly pay.  No one knew that you and your brother had met at Madame Zichy’s.  But you knew that your father was not expected to outlive the night, and that if your brother were dead also, you would be saved from complete ruin, and that you would become the Marquis of Edam.’

“‘Oh, that is how you have worked it out, is it?’ Arthur cried.  ’And for me to become Lord Edam was it necessary that the woman should die, too?’

“‘They will say,’ Lyle answered, ’that she was a witness to the murder—­that she would have told.’

“‘Then why did I not kill the servant as well?’ Arthur said.

“‘He was asleep, and saw nothing.’

“‘And you believe that?’ Arthur demanded.

“‘It is not a question of what I believe,’ Lyle said, gravely.  ’It is a question for your peers.’

“‘The man is insolent!’ Arthur cried.  ’The thing is monstrous!  Horrible!’

“Before we could stop him, he sprang out of his cot and began pulling on his clothes.  When the nurses tried to hold him down, he fought with them.

“‘Do you think you can keep me here,’ he shouted, ’when they are plotting to hang me?  I am going with you to that house!’ he cried at Lyle.  ’When you find those bodies I shall be beside you.  It is my right.  He is my brother.  He has been murdered, and I can tell you who murdered him.  That woman murdered him.’

’She first ruined his life, and now she has killed him.  For the last five years she has been plotting to make herself his wife, and last night, when he told her he had discovered the truth about the Russian, and that she would never see him again, she flew into a passion and stabbed him, and then in terror of the gallows, killed herself.  She murdered him, I tell you, and I promise you that we will find the knife she used near her—­perhaps still in her hand.  What will you say to that?’