and curved up in points, his eyes
light gray, and never looking straight at you; his nose small, thin, and
sharp; and, now I think of it, has he not got a small scar on one of
his cheeks?"

"Why, Mr. Wilkeson," exclaimed the boy Bog, "that's the very chap!"

"Who is he?" asked the lieutenant of police, "that I may have him
arrested at once."

"He is the son--"

CHAPTER V.

THE SORROW OF WHITE HAIRS.

At that moment the door opened, and the venerable form of Myndert Van
Quintem appeared before them. Marcus cast a hasty glance, importing
silence, at his companions, and rose to receive his old friend.

Mr. Van Quintem's face expressed the tenderest compassion. He clasped
Marcus's hand, and said:

"My young friend, it deeply grieves me to see you here; for I feel--I
may say I know morally--that you are innocent of any part in
this murder."

"Thank you for your confidence," said Marcus. "I hope, when Miss Minford
and certain other witnesses are examined to-morrow, to prove my
innocence conclusively."

"So you will, I am sure. When I say that I know you are innocent, I
found my belief on my short but pleasant acquaintance with you. But I
cannot guess, from the evidence at the inquest yesterday and that of
to-day--just published in the afternoon papers,--who committed the
murder, or what was the motive of it. Have you any clue to the mystery?"

"Yes--yes," replied Marcus. "We think we have a clue; but so slight,
that it is hardly worth mentioning. My friends here are going to
follow it up."

"And in order that we may do so without any delay," said the lieutenant,
"please give us the name of that sneaking letter writer."

Marcus coughed, looked at the lieutenant knowingly, and said, "Oh,
_that's_ no consequence. It's a false scent. Depend on it."

The old gentleman, as he entered the room, had caught Marcus Wilkeson's
words. "He is the son--" and had observed the slight confusion with
which Marcus had stopped saying something. He now noticed the glance
enjoining silence, which Marcus had directed at the lieutenant
of police.

Mr. Van Quintem turned pale, as a harrowing suspicion came into his
mind. "Mr. Wilkeson," he said, in a trembling voice, "will you answer me
one question truly?"

"I--I will," replied Marcus.

"Then tell me, in Heaven's name, do you know of anything that connects
my son with this monstrous crime? I have had a dreadful presentiment,
all along, that he had something to do with it.