not be angry with me, doctor," said Muller gravely, as he walked
through the garden accompanied by Orszay.

Doctor Orszay laughed bitterly. "Why should I be angry with you--you
who have discovered my inexcusable credulity?"

"Inexcusable? Oh, no, doctor; it was quite natural that you should have
believed a man who had himself so well in hand, and who knew so well
how to play his part. When we come to think of it, we realise that
most crimes have been made possible through some one's credulity, or
over-confidence, a credulity which, in the light of subsequent events,
seems quite incomprehensible. Do not reproach yourself and do not lose
heart. Your only fault was that you did not recognise the heart of the
beast of prey in this admirable human form."

"What course will the law take?" asked Orszay. "The poor unfortunate
madman--whose knife took all these lives--cannot be held responsible,
can he?"

"Oh, no; his misfortune protects him. But as for the other, though his
hands bear no actual bloodstains, he is more truly a murderer than the
unhappy man who was his tool. Hanging is too good for him. There are
times when even I could wish that we were back in the Middle Ages, when
it was possible to torture a prisoner.

"You do not look like that sort of a man," smiled the doctor through his
sadness.

"No, I am the most good-natured of men usually, I think--the meekest
anyway," answered Muller. "But a case like this--. However, as I said
before, keep a stout heart, doctor, and do not waste time in unnecessary
self-reproachings." The detective pressed the doctor's hand warmly and
walked down the hill towards the village.

He went at once to the office of the magistrate and made his report,
then returned to the rectory and packed his grip. He arranged for its
transport to the railway station, as he himself preferred to walk the
inconsiderable distance. He passed through the village and had just
entered the open fields when he met Janci with his flock. The shepherd
hastened his steps when he saw the detective approaching.

"You have found him, sir?" he exclaimed as he came up to Muller. The men
had come to be friends by this time. The silent shepherd with the power
of second sight had won Muller's interest at once.

"Yes, I found him. It is Gyuri, the warder at the asylum."

"No, sir, it is not Gyuri--Gyuri did not do it."

"But when I tell you that he did?"

"But I tell you, sir, that Gyuri did not do it. The man w