."

Brettison said all this in so careless and jaunty a manner, that
Stratton raised his head and gazed at him in horror and disgust. For
how could he treat so terrible an event so lightly, and discourse of all
his thoughts as they came to him with the body lying on the rug just at
his feet.

Stratton's look had its effect, for Brettison became a little uneasy.

"Ah, I see you are shocked at my way of treating the matter. Well, I
suppose I am wrong. It is all fresh and terrible to you; it has no
repulsion for me now. I am only able to look back upon it all as a
curious experience of life--a singular turn of the wheel--by which I, a
retiring, simple-minded botanist, whose greatest excitement was the
discovery of a fresh herb or plant new to England, suddenly found
himself playing the part of accomplice to one who had taken another's
life."

"Accomplice?" faltered Stratton.

"Of course. The law would treat me as being so. Was I not trying to
dispose of the body of the victim so as to screen you from discovery?
Oh, yes; an accomplice. Yes, I argued to myself that the man died by
his own hand, and that I was working for your happiness."

"For Heaven's sake, Brettison, don't talk like this!" cried Stratton,
almost fiercely. "It is too horrible!"

"You think so," said the old man, with a faint smile of amusement. "Ah,
well! we view these things from different points."

"Tell me at once what you did--with it."

"Let me tell you my own way. Old men are tedious, Stratton, and I am, I
suppose, no exception to the rule. However, I will be brief, for I am
torturing you, I fear. I racked my brains for hours and evoked dozens
of plans, but there was always some terrible obstacle in the way, and at
last I sat back here in utter despair, seeing nothing but the plain fact
before me--that your wisdom was greater than mine, and that the only way
out of the difficulty was the one you had chosen--to restore the body to
the hiding-place in there.

"It was miserably humiliating, but I could do no more. It was madness
to keep the poor wretch where I had laid him; discovery might come at
any time. Once I thought of leaving him there and going away myself--
disappearing, as it were, from the world. I could keep my chambers
untouched for months--perhaps years--by sending a cheque to the agent
from time to time. But I knew that this must end in discovery. An
unforeseen event might result in the chambers being opened an