he is, she
is capable of trampling on one who trusted her heart a him to whom she
owes a debt of honor a ance

"If you don't believe me ask her to her cruel beautiful face what is
(her) humble servant yours:

"Henry Ritchie Clavering."

"I think that will do," said Mr. Gryce. "Its general tenor is evident,
and that is all we want at this time."

"The whole tone of it is anything but complimentary to the lady it
mentions," I remarked. "He must have had, or imagined he had, some
desperate grievance, to provoke him to the use of such plain language in
regard to one he can still characterize as tender, charming, beautiful."

"Grievances are apt to lie back of mysterious crimes."

"I think I know what this one was," I said; "but"--seeing him look
up--"must decline to communicate my suspicion to you for the present. My
theory stands unshaken, and in some degree confirmed; and that is all I
can say."

"Then this letter does not supply the link you wanted?"

"No: it is a valuable bit of evidence; but it is not the link I am in
search of just now."

"Yet it must be an important clue, or Eleanore Leavenworth would not
have been to such pains, first to take it in the way she did from her
uncle's table, and secondly----"

"Wait! what makes you think this is the paper she took, or was believed
to have taken, from Mr. Leavenworth's table on that fatal morning?"

"Why, the fact that it was found together with the key, which we know
she dropped into the grate, and that there are drops of blood on it."

I shook my head.

"Why do you shake your head?" asked Mr. Gryce.

"Because I am not satisfied with your reason for believing this to be
the paper taken by her from Mr. Leavenworth's table."

"And why?"

"Well, first, because Fobbs does not speak of seeing any paper in her
hand, when she bent over the fire; leaving us to conclude that these
pieces were in the scuttle of coal she threw upon it; which surely you
must acknowledge to be a strange place for her to have put a paper she
took such pains to gain possession of; and, secondly, for the reason
that these scraps were twisted as if they had been used for curl papers,
or something of that kind; a fact hard to explain by your hypothesis."

The detective's eye stole in the direction of my necktie, which was as
near as he ever came to a face. "You are a bright one," said he; "a very
bright one. I quite admire you, Mr. Raymond."

A little surprised, and not altogether