,
a wiser man than I. Mr. Narkom, give us your views, please. Who do _you_
think has committed this crime, according to present evidence?"

"That man!" Mr. Narkom pointed excitedly in Ross's direction, his fat
face red with excitement, his forehead perspiring with the heat of his
excitement. "_He_ fired the shot. But the stiletto--that is a more
difficult question."

"And you think Mr. Duggan actually did kill his father, then? No, no,
sir, I beg of you, let us finish this discussion before you interrupt.
It might lead to something really enlightening. You think that, Mr.
Narkom? Considering the position in which the shot was fired, and the
position in which Mr. Duggan himself stood last night?"

"Decidedly I do."

"H'm. I'm sorry. But I'm inclined to agree. But the evidence, I admit,
is at present slight--the actual circumstantial evidence, I mean. You're
not going to--arrest--him on that, I hope?"

Arrest! The fateful word fell upon that assemblage with truly sinister
meaning. Arrest Ross! Arrest him! Impossible! Upon every face these
thoughts might be read--except upon Lady Paula's, where, indeed, a sort
of secret and hidden triumph seemed to glow like a light lit from
within. Cleek flashed his eyes over every face. He paused at Lady
Paula's for one moment, and then went on to Ross's--and ended up at
length upon Catherine Dowd's. It was transfigured! Transfigured with
hate of himself, with love of Ross: the two most intense feelings in
human nature warring with each other upon it to be uppermost. That look
of hatred made him positively shiver. If the woman had had any real
reason for the crime, could she not have been the perpetrator of the
stabbing episode? But she hadn't any reason, at least none that could be
at present discovered. One would have to go deeper than that for motive.

"Well, Mr. Narkom?"

The Superintendent was looking frankly uncomfortable. Cleek's direct
action in front of them all had somewhat winded him. He was not used to
such out-and-out tactics, even in the methods of a man who was the most
amazing beggar he had ever struck.

"I--I--well, hardly that, my dear chap," he responded awkwardly. "We've
got to have more proof than that, you know. A judge won't hang a man
upon the evidence of his possible position in a room when the light went
out. It--it isn't feasible!"

"Well done, well done!" Cleek laughed the words softly into his ear.
"So, Mr. Duggan, you are free--for the present. Bu