zan as myself. The word fired me, and I spoke.

"You consider Mr. Durand guilty, and so do many others, I fear, in spite
of his long record for honesty and uprightness. And why? Because you
will not admit the possibility of another person's guilt,--a person
standing so high in private and public estimation that the very idea
seems preposterous and little short of insulting to the country of which
he is an acknowledged ornament."

"My dear!"

The inspector had actually risen. His expression and whole attitude
showed shock. But I did not quail; I only subdued my manner and spoke
with quieter conviction.

"I am aware," said I, "how words so daring must impress you. But listen,
sir; listen to what I have to say before you utterly condemn me. I
acknowledge that it is the frightful position into which I threw Mr.
Durand by my officious attempt to right him which has driven me to
make this second effort to fix the crime on the only other man who had
possible access to Mrs. Fairbrother at the fatal moment. How could I
live in inaction? How could you expect me to weigh for a moment
this foreigner's reputation against that of my own lover? If I have
reasons--"

"Reasons!"

"--reasons which would appeal to all; if instead of this person's having
an international reputation at his back he had been a simple gentleman
like Mr. Durand,--would you not consider me entitled to speak?"

"Certainly, but--"

"You have no confidence in my reasons, Inspector; they may not weigh
against that splash of blood on Mr. Durand's shirt-front, but such as
they are I must give them. But first, it will be necessary for you to
accept for the nonce Mr. Durand's statements as true. Are you willing to
do this?"

"I will try."

"Then, a harder thing yet,--to put some confidence in my judgment. I saw
the man and did not like him long before any intimation of the evening's
tragedy had turned suspicion on any one. I watched him as I watched
others. I saw that he had not come to the ball to please Mr. Ramsdell or
for any pleasure he himself hoped to reap from social intercourse,
but for some purpose much more important, and that this purpose was
connected with Mrs. Fairbrother's diamond. Indifferent, almost morose
before she came upon the scene, he brightened to a surprising extent the
moment he found himself in her presence. Not because she was a beautiful
woman, for he scarcely honored her face or even her superb figure with a
look. All his glanc