in my breast as she
had planted there. To rid myself of it, I determined to kill her, and
I did. How? Oh, that was easy, though it has proved a great
stumbling-block to the detectives, as I knew it would! I shot her--but
not with an ordinary bullet. My charge was a small icicle made
deliberately for the purpose. It had strength enough to penetrate, but
it left no trace behind it. 'A bullet of ice for a heart of ice,' I had
said in the torment of my rage. But the word was without knowledge, Mr.
Challoner. I see it now; I have seen it for two whole weeks. I did not
misjudge her condemnation of me, but I misjudged its cause. It was not
to the comparatively poor, the comparatively obscure man she sought
to show contempt, but to the brother of Oswald whose claims she saw
insulted. A woman I should have respected, not killed. A woman of no
pride of station; a woman who loved a man not only of my own class but
of my own blood--a woman, to avenge whose unmerited death I stand
here before you a self-condemned criminal. That is but justice, Mr.
Challoner. That is the way I look at things. Though no sentimentalist;
and dead to all beliefs save the eternal truths of science, I have that
in me which will not let me profit, now that I know myself unworthy, by
the great success I have earned. Hence this confession, Mr. Challoner.
It has not come easily, nor do I shut my eyes in the least to the
results which must follow. But I can not do differently. To-morrow, you
may telegraph to New York. Till then I desire to be left undisturbed. I
have many things to dispose of in the interim."

Mr. Challoner, very white by now, pointed to the door before he sank
again into his chair. Brotherson took it for dismissal and stepped
slowly back. Then their eyes met again and Mr. Challoner spoke his first
word:

"There was another--a poor woman--she died suddenly--and her wound was
not unlike that inflicted upon Edith. Did you--"

"I did." The answer came without a tremour. "You may say and so may
others that I was less justified in this attack than in the other; but
I do not see it that way. A theory does not always work in practice.
I wished to test the unusual means I contemplated, and the woman I saw
before me across the court was hard-working and with nothing in life to
look forward to, so--"

A cry of bitter execration from Mr. Challoner cut him short. Turning
with a shrug he was about to lift his hand to the door, when he gave a
violent s