d for the money he had on him. But I mustn't talk about it. I may
have to try it."

"Gad! you'll be committing contempt of yourself," suggested the Captain.

"Like that snake that swallows itself, eh?"

"What snake?" asked the Captain, with interest.

"The snake in the story," answered the Chief Justice; and he added in an
undertone--"Why can't that fellow sit still?"

Mr. Coxon had wandered to the window again, and was thrumming on the
panes. He turned on hearing some one enter. It was Sir Robert Perry.

"Well," he began, "I bring news of the event of the day."

"About to-night?" asked Coxon eagerly.

"To-night! That's not the event of the day. Ministers are a deal
commoner than murders. No, last night."

Coxon turned away disappointed.

"The murder!" exclaimed the Captain.

"Don't talk to me about it, Perry," the Chief Justice requested, opening
a paper in front of his face. He did not, however, withdraw out of
earshot.

"They've got a sort of a clue. A wretched hobbledehoy of a fellow,
something in the bookseller's shop at the corner of Kettle Street, has
come with a rigmarole about a society that he and a few more belonged
to, including this Francois Gaspard, who is missing. He protests that
the thing was legal, and all that--only a Radical inner ring--but he
says that at the last meeting this fellow was dropping hints about
putting somebody out of the way. Dyer--that's the lad's name--swears the
rest of them disowned him and said they'd have nothing to do with it,
and hoped he'd given up the idea."

"I suppose he's in a blue funk?" asked the Captain.

"He is no doubt alarmed," said Sir Robert. "He gave the police the names
of the rest of their precious society, and, oddly enough, Ned Evans, of
the House--you know him, Coxon?--was one."

"Heard such an awful lot of debates, poor chap," observed Captain
Heseltine.

"Well, they went to Evans' and collared him. For a time he stuck out
that he knew nothing about it, but they threatened him with heaven knows
what, and at last he confessed to having seen this Gaspard in company
with the murdered man in Digby Square a little before twelve on the
night."

"By Jove! That's awkward!" said the Captain.

Coxon showed more interest now, and remarked,

"Why, Gaspard was one of Medland's organisers. I saw him with both
Medland and Norburn on Saturday."

"I don't suppose they were planning to murder this Benham. Indeed, I
don't see that the thing can have