t which made the worthy doctor uneasy, as he could in no
wise divine the meaning of it. However, he made no remark, but took the
seat handed to him by Mr. Calton and prepared to listen. Calton locked
the door of the office, and then went back to his desk, having the
other three seated before him in a kind of semi-circle.

"In the first place," said Calton to the doctor, "I have to inform you
that you are one of the executors under the will of the late Mr.
Frettlby, and that is why I asked you to come here to-day. The other
executors are Mr. Fitzgerald and myself."

"Oh, indeed," murmured the doctor, politely.

"And now," said Calton, looking at him, "do you remember the hansom cab
murder, which caused such a sensation some months ago?"

"Yes, I do," replied the doctor, rather astonished; "but what has that
to do with the will?"

"Nothing to do with the will," answered Calton, gravely; "but the fact
is, Mr. Frettlby was implicated in the affair."

Dr. Chinston glanced enquiringly at Brian, but that gentleman shook his
head.

"It has nothing to do with my arrest," he said, sadly.

Madge's words, uttered in her delirium, flashed across the doctor's
memory.

"What do you mean?" he gasped, pushing back his chair. "How was he
implicated?"

"That I cannot tell you," answered Calton, "until I read his
confession."

"Ah!" said Kilsip, becoming very attentive.

"Yes," said Calton, turning to Kilsip, "your hunt after Moreland is a
wild-goose chase, for the murderer of Oliver Whyte is discovered."

"Discovered!" cried Kilsip and the doctor in one breath.

"Yes, and his name is Mark Frettlby."

Kilsip shot a glance of disdain out of his bright black eyes, and gave
a low laugh of disbelief, but the doctor pushed back his chair
furiously, and arose to his feet.

"This is monstrous," he cried, in a rage. "I won't sit still and hear
this accusation against my dead friend."

"Unfortunately, it is too true," said Brian, sadly.

"How dare you say so?" said Chinston, turning angrily on him. "And you
going to marry his daughter!"

"There is only one way to settle the question," said Calton, coldly.
"We must read his confession."

"But why the detective?" asked the doctor, ungraciously, as he took his
seat.

"Because I want him to hear for himself that Mr. Frettlby committed the
crime, that he may keep silence."

"Not till I've arrested him," said Kilsip, determinedly.

"But he's dead," said Brian.

"I'm speak