like a man stricken with
a deadly disease ever since the night of the murder. The lawyer who
employed him as a clerk complained that he seemed totally incapable of
doing his work. The police felt sure that either he or Murnihan fired
the shot; that both of them, and probably a dozen men besides, knew who
did.

Six men were led into the office one after another. Mary Drennan looked
at each of them and shook her head. It came to Murnihan's turn. He
marched in defiantly, staring insolently at the police-officer and at
the magistrate.

He displayed no emotion when he saw Mary Drennan. She looked at him, and
once more shook her head.

"Are you sure?" said Chalmers. "Quite sure?"

"I am sure," she said. "He is not the man I saw."

"Remove him," said Chalmers.

Murnihan stood erect for a moment before he turned to follow the
sergeant. With hand raised to the salute he made profession of the faith
that was in him:

"Up the rebels!" he said. "Up Sinn Fein! God save Ireland!"

Denis Ryan was led in and set in the appointed place. He stood there
trembling. His face was deadly pale. The fingers of his hands twitched.
His head was bowed. Only once did he raise his eyes and let them rest
for a moment on Mary's face. It was as if he was trying to convey some
message to her, to make her understand something which he dared not say.

She looked at him steadily. Her face had been white before. Now colour,
like a blush, covered her cheeks. Chalmers leaned forward eagerly,
waiting for her to speak or give some sign. Major Whiteley tapped his
fingers nervously on the table before him.

"That is not the man," said Mary Drennan.

"Look again," said Chalmers. "Make no mistake."

She turned to him and spoke calmly, quietly:

"I am quite certain. That is not the man."

"Damn!" said Chalmers. "The girl has failed us, after all. Take him
away, sergeant!"

Denis Ryan had covered his face with his hands when Mary spoke. He
turned to follow the sergeant from the room, a man bent and beaten down
with utter shame.

"Stop!" said Chalmers. He turned fiercely to Mary. "Will you swear--will
you take your oath he is not the man?"

"I swear it," said Mary.

"You're swearing to a lie," said Chalmers, "and you know it."

Major Whiteley was cooler and more courteous.

"Thank you, Miss Drennan," he said. "We need not trouble you any
further."

Mary Drennan rose, bowed to the two men, and left the room.

"You may let those men go, Ch