o the bank, a considerable way down the stream. The body, it
was thought, had been carried out into the Thames by the force of the
current.

A terrible suspicion glanced across my mind. 'Where is Mr Renshawe?' I
asked. Nobody knew. He had not been seen since five o'clock--about the
time, I soon ascertained, that the child was missed. I had the house
cleared, as quickly as possible, of the numerous gossips that crowded
it, and then sought a conference with Dr Garland, who was with Mrs
Irwin. The distracted mother had, I found, been profusely bled and
cupped, and it was hoped that brain-fever, which had been apprehended,
would not ensue. The physician's suspicions pointed the same way as
mine; but he declined committing himself to any advice, and I was left
to act according to my own discretion. I was new to such matters at
that time--unfortunately so, as it proved, or the affair might have
had a less painful issue.

Tomlins and I remained up, waiting for the return of Mr Renshawe; and
as the long, slow hours limped past, the night-silence only broken by
the dull moaning, and occasional spasmodic screams of poor Mrs Irwin,
I grew very much excited. The prolonged absence of Mr Renshawe
confirmed my impressions of his guilt, and I determined to tax him
with it, and take him into custody the instant he appeared. It was two
in the morning before he did so; and the nervous fumbling, for full
ten minutes, with his latch-key, before he could open the door, quite
prepared me for the spectral-like aspect he presented on entering. He
had met somebody, it afterwards appeared, outside, who had assured him
that the mother of the drowned child was either dead or dying. He
never drank, I knew, but he staggered as if intoxicated; and after he
had with difficulty reached the head of the stairs, in reply to my
question as to where he had been, he could only stutter with white
trembling lips: 'It--it--cannot be--be true--that Lau--that Mrs Irwin
is--dying?'

'Quite true, Mr Renshawe,' I very imprudently replied, and in much too
loud a tone, for we were but a few paces from Mrs Irwin's bedroom
door. 'And if, as I suspect, the child has been drowned by you, you
will have before long two murders on your head.'

A choking, bubbling noise came from the wretched man's throat, and his
shaking fingers vainly strove to loosen his neck-tie. At the same
moment, I heard a noise, as of struggling, in the bedroom, and the
nurse's voice in eager remo