vening."

"I am Lawrence Guthrie," explained the young man, "and yesterday, much
against my inclinations, but to prevent Graham's exposing the state of
my affairs to my father, I was forced to leave with him, as security for
fifty pounds, a Turkish yataghan worth considerably more."

"Stop! When I came to your Bart's last night, what did I tell you?"

"That Graham had been murdered with my yataghan."

"Well?"

"You said that the crime looked like the work of an old hand, for the
murderer had worn gloves. You told me that you had recognised, in one of
the victim's most important creditors, a notorious French criminal,
Andre Legun----"

The Count, deathly pale, his throbbing forehead wet as if douched, drew
a long, hissing breath. His eyes stared glassily at Dr. Lepardo.

"By what means?"

"By certain facial peculiarities."

"Rule 85."

"And particularly by a vein in his left temple, only visible when he was
roused. You had secured, by a trick----"

"Article Six."

"An imprint of his thumb upon a cheque. This you had compared with
certain in your possession--and forwarded to Paris."

"Unnecessary, but a usual form."

"You had secured from the grate in his study a pocketful of ash, some
scraps of torn leather--bloodstained--and some few other fragments.
These you and I spent the night examining and arranging. Amongst the
ashes was a patent glove button, also bloodstained."

"What have I yet to find?"

"A pair of boots."

"I depart to find them."

Dr. Lepardo quitted the room. Count de Guise followed him with his eyes
until he had disappeared. No one spoke nor stirred until the brown old
doctor returned, carrying a pair of glace kid boots.

He placed them on the table beside the bag and pointed a long finger at
a gap in one row of buttons.

"Scotland Yard can complete the set, Andre," he said with grim humour.
"In this bag are the results of our examination. In your grate are more
ashes and fragments for the English Home Office to check us by. In this
bag is a complete account of how you came to Moorgate Place, knocked at
Gottschalk's door and were admitted. I do not know how you had _meant_
to kill him, but the yataghan, left on his table by Mr. Guthrie, was
tempting, eh? You then commenced to collect certain letters and papers,
Andre. You tore from his private book the page containing your little
account. Then you tore out others, to blind us all. You had begun upon
the letter files when you wer