know that I am as innocent of crime as you are, and probably much more so."
"Don't lie to me, you hound!" He turned with a sweeping gesture towards my wife. "You must excuse me, madam, but you will do me the justice to remember that I suggested your departure from the room. I cannot allow your presence to debar me from plain speaking." Directing his attention again towards me, he began to button up his brand-new overcoat, with a deliberation which was, doubtless, intended to impress me. "As you have been lying in your bed, like a cur hiding in its kennel-because pray don't suppose that you can make me believe that you have been sick with anything else but terror-I don't know, my man, if you are aware that all England is on tiptoe, watching for your capture. If I were to point you out, at this moment, in any street in England, the people would tear you limb from limb. The whole country is thirsting, righteously thirsting, for your blood."
"It is false!"
"Is it? Refuse to give me what I ask, and I will prove to you if it is false."
"I won't be robbed by you."
"Then you'll be hung by me instead." He raised his hat, as if he was about to put it on his head. "Once more, and for the last time, which is it to be-the gallows or the hundred pounds?"
"You'll get no hundred pounds from me. I swear it."
"Then it will be the gallows. In ten minutes the news will be flashing through the land that justice has its hands about the murderer's neck."
He clapped his hat upon his head. He moved towards the door. I went all hot and cold-anybody would have gone all hot and cold with such a prospect as the scoundrel pictured in front of him. Whether, with a view of appealing to his better self-if he had one, which I doubt-I should have prevented his leaving the room, is more than I can say. I might have done. After all, self-preservation is nature's first and greatest law. I had, and always should have, an incurable objection to being hanged by such a rascal. As it was, it was my wife that interposed.
"One moment, sir, before you go."
He removed his hat-with a flourish which, as usual, was reminiscent of the transpontine drama.
"Madam, ten thousand, if you wish it."
"Are you the person who travelled in the next compartment to my husband's from Brighton?"
"Madam, I am."
"You look it."
The fellow might be excused for looking a little startled-which he certainly did do. I have found that particular tone of Lucy's, now and then, a little startling myself. The man did not seem as if he quite knew what to make of it.
"I look it, madam-how do you mean?"
"You look the sort of character."
"To what sort of character, madam, do you refer?"
"You look like the sort of person who would wear another man's clothes."
He drew himself bolt upright, as if his backbone had suddenly been straightened by a spring.
"Madam! I would have you to know that I wear no one's clothes but my own."
"You are wearing my husband's clothes at this present moment."
"Your husband's clothes?"
"Were they not purchased with his money?"
"Madam! you have a very extraordinary way of putting things. Is it possible that you intend to be offensive?"
"Is it possible to be offensive to such as you?"
"I, madam, am a gentleman, born and bred."
"That you are a gentleman of a certain kind I have no doubt whatever."
The man began to look badgered, as if he were growing conscious of a feeling of tightness about the region of the chest. He commenced to smooth the nap of his hat, violently, with his gloved hand.
"I take it, Mrs. Tennant, that you don't quite realise the position in which your husband stands."
"And I take it that you don't at all realise the position in which you stand."
The fellow ceased brushing his hat, the better to enable him to stare.
"I stand?"
"Yes, you."
"And pray, madam, how do I stand?"
"Have you ever heard of such a thing as an accessory after the fact?"
"An accessory after the fact?"
"Because that is the position in which you stand-in the position of an accessory after the fact."
The man looked unmistakably uneasy. He continued to suspend the operation of smoothing his hat.
"You are pleased to be facetious."
"You will find that that view will not be taken by a judge and jury."
It was with a distinct effort that the fellow returned to an attitude of defiance-squaring his shoulders and tugging at his moustache.
"I have no wish, and no intention, to chop phrases with a lady. I imagined, madam, that you desired to say something pertinent to your husband's terrible position-with the gallows already shadowing him. Since it appears to be otherwise I can but proceed to do my duty."
"By all means do your duty. But you understand that when my husband is arrested you will be arrested too."
"Pooh, madam-you cannot frighten me!"
"But I can, and will, get you penal servitude for life."
"Can you, indeed, madam? May I ask how you propose to do it?"
"By telling the plain and simple story of your connection with my husband. That will be sufficient, as you know."
"I know nothing of the sort; tell your story, and be hanged!"
Thrusting his hat upon his head, the fellow marched out of the room in a couple of strides. His exit, whether consciously to himself or not, was marked rather by haste than by dignity. When he had gone I looked at my wife. Lucy, on her part, looked at the door through which he had vanished.
"Now you've done it," I observed.
Lucy turned to me with a smile hovering about her lips, which, under the circumstances, I thought was a little out of place.
"I have done it, as you say."
"You don't seem to be aware of what you've done. What's the good of talking to him like that? Do you suppose that you can frighten him-that you can take him in? He knows very well that whatever happens to me he'll go scatheless. He's the one witness whom the prosecution will not be able to do without."
"I think you are mistaken. With a man of that type the high horse is the only horse you ought to ride. He desires nothing less than to get into the witness-box, or I misjudge the man. I suspect that his own record is not of a kind which he would care to have exposed to the cross-examining light of day."
Hardly were the words out of her mouth than there came a tap at the panel of the door. Lucy shot a
