antaneous, distorted for a moment the
powerful features of Craik Mansell at the words, "another person," but
it was gone before the sentence was completed; and when Mr. Ferris
ceased, he looked up with the steady calmness which made his bearing so
remarkable.

"I am waiting to hear the name of this freshly suspected person," he
observed.

"Cannot you imagine?" asked the District Attorney, coldly, secretly
disconcerted under a gaze that held his own with such steady
persistence.

The eyeballs of the other flashed like coals of fire.

"I think it is my right to hear it spoken," he returned.

This display of feeling restored Mr. Ferris to himself.

"In a moment, sir," said he. "Meanwhile, have you any objections to
answering a few questions I would like to put to you?"

"I will hear them," was the steady reply.

"You know," said the District Attorney, "you are at perfect liberty to
answer or not, as you see fit. I have no desire to entrap you into any
acknowledgments you may hereafter regret."

"Speak," was the sole response he received.

"Well, sir," said Mr. Ferris, "are you willing to tell me where you were
when you first heard of the assault which had been made upon your aunt?"

"I was in my place at the mill."

"And--pardon me if I go too far--were you also there the morning she was
murdered?"

"No, sir."

"Mr. Mansell, if you could tell us where you were at that time, it would
be of great benefit to us, and possibly to yourself."

"To myself?"

Having shown his surprise, or, possibly, his alarm, by the repetition of
the other's words, Craik Mansell paused and looked slowly around the
room until he encountered Mr. Byrd's eye. There was a steady compassion
in the look he met there that seemed to strike him with great force, for
he at once replied that he was away from home, and stopped--his glance
still fixed upon Mr. Byrd, as if, by the very power of his gaze, he
would force the secrets of that detective's soul to the surface.

"Mr. Mansell," pursued the District Attorney, "a distinct avowal on your
part of the place where you were at that time, would be best for us
both, I am sure."

"Do you not already know?" inquired the other, his eye still upon Horace
Byrd.

"We have reason to think you were in this town," averred Mr. Ferris,
with an emphasis calculated to recall the attention of his visitor to
himself.

"And may I ask," Craik Mansell quietly said, "what reason you can have
for such a