as he laid a
photograph before Mazi. It showed a man and a girl, evidently in their
wedding finery, and the face of the man was that of Jean Forette, and
that of the girl was of the woman who had groveled on the sand at the
feet of the chauffeur the night before,--Morocco Kate.

"Look on the back," suggested the detective, and when Mazi turned the
photograph over she read:

"The happiest day of my life--Jean Carnot."

"If you happen to have any love letters from him--and I guess you have,"
went on the colonel, "you might compare the writing and--"

"I have no need, monsieur," was the low answer. "I--God help me.--I
believe now! Oh, the liar! If I could see him now--"

"I rather thought you'd want to," murmured the colonel. "Bring him in!"
he called.

The door opened, and, handcuffed to a stalwart officer, in slunk Jean of
the many names.

Mazi sprang to her feet, her face livid. She would have leaped at the
prisoner, but the colonel held her back. But he could not hold back the
flood of voluble French that poured from her lips.

"Liar! Dog!" she hissed at him. "And so you have deceived me as you
deceived others! You lied--and I thought he lied!" and she motioned to
the colonel. "Oh, what a silly fool I've been! But now my eyes are open!
I see! I see!"

With a quick gesture, before the colonel could stop her, she tore in
half the picture that had swept away all her doubts.

"Mustn't do that!" chided the colonel, as he picked up the pieces which
she was about to grind under her feet. "I'll need that at the trial."

"You--you beast!" whispered the girl, but the whisper seemed louder than
a shout would have been. "You beast! No longer will I lie for you. Why
you wanted me to, I do not know. Yes, I do! It was so that you might
be with some one else when you should have been with me. Listen, all of
you!" she cried, as she flung her arms wide. "No longer will I shield
him. He told me to say that he was with me when that golf man--Monsieur
Carwell died--before he died--but he was not. No more will I lie for
you, Jean of the many names! You were not with me! I did not even see
you that day. Bah! You were kissing some other fool maybe! Oh, my God!
I--I--"

And the colonel gently laid the trembling, shrieking girl down on a
bench, while the eyes of the shrinking figure of Jean the chauffeur
followed every movement.

He raised his free hand, and seemed to be struggling to loosen his
collar that appeared to choke h