night had
convinced him that he was at a critical phase of his present adventure,
and it behoved him, as a good general, to review his forces.

The forestalling of his plans about the hiding-place in Paradise had
upset Bryce's schemes--he had figured on being able to turn that
secret, whatever it was, to his own advantage. It struck him now, as he
meditated, that he had never known exactly what he expected to get out
of that secret--but he had hoped that it would have been something which
would make a few more considerable and tightly-strung meshes in the net
which he was endeavouring to weave around Ransford. Now he was faced by
the fact that it was not going to yield anything in the way of help--it
was a secret no longer, and it had yielded nothing beyond the mere
knowledge that John Braden, who was in reality John Brake, had carried
the secret to Warchester--to reveal it in the proper quarter. That
helped Bryce in no way--so far as he could see. And therefore it was
necessary to re-state his case to himself; to take stock; to see where
he stood--and more than all, to put plainly before his own mind exactly
what he wanted.

And just before Mitchington and the detective came up the path to his
door, Bryce had put his notions into clear phraseology. His aim was
definite--he wanted to get Ransford completely into his power, through
suspicion of Ransford's guilt in the affairs of Braden and Collishaw. He
wanted, at the same time, to have the means of exonerating him--whether
by fact or by craft--so that, as an ultimate method of success for his
own projects he would be able to go to Mary Bewery and say "Ransford's
very life is at my mercy: if I keep silence, he's lost: if I speak,
he's saved: it's now for you to say whether I'm to speak or hold my
tongue--and you're the price I want for my speaking to save him!" It
was in accordance with his views of human nature that Mary Bewery would
accede to his terms: he had not known her and Ransford for nothing, and
he was aware that she had a profound gratitude for her guardian, which
might even be akin to a yet unawakened warmer feeling. The probability
was that she would willingly sacrifice herself to save Ransford--and
Bryce cared little by what means he won her, fair or foul, so long as
he was successful. So now, he said to himself, he must make a still
more definite move against Ransford. He must strengthen and deepen the
suspicions which the police already had: he must give