nfolding drama with interest.

"I have reason to think," proceeded Mr. Ransom, "that the unhappy
termination of that day's felicities were in a measure due to you.
You seem to know my bride very well; much too well for her happiness
or mine."

"We will argue that question in my room," was the unmoved reply. "The
open hall is quite unsuited to a conversation of this nature. Now," said
he, turning upon them when they were in the privacy of his small but not
uncomfortable apartment, "you will be kind enough to repeat what you just
said. I wish to thoroughly understand you."

"You have the right," returned Mr. Ransom, controlling himself under the
detective's eye. "I said that your presence at this wedding seemed to
disturb my wife, which fact, considering the after occurrences of the
day, strikes me as important enough for discussion. Are you willing to
discuss it affably and fairly?"

"May I ask who your companion is?" inquired the other, with a slight
inclination towards Gerridge.

"A friend; one who is in my confidence."

"Then I will answer you without any further hesitation. My presence may
have disturbed your wife, it very likely did, but I was not to blame for
that. No man is to blame for the bad effects of an unfortunate accident."

"Oh, I don't mean that," Mr. Ransom hastened to protest. "The cause of
her very evident agitation was not personal. It had a deeper root than
that. It led, or so I believe, to her flight from a love she cherished,
at a moment when our mutual life seemed about to begin."

The impassive, I might almost say set features of this man of violent
passions but remarkable self-restraint failed to relax or give any
token of the feelings with which he listened to this attack.

"Then the news given of your wife in the papers to-night is false,"
was his quiet retort. "It professes to give a distinct, if somewhat
fantastic, reason for her flight. A reason totally different from the
one you suggest."

"A reason you don't believe in?"

"Certainly not. It is too bizarre."

"I share your incredulity. That is why I seek the truth from you rather
than from the columns of a newspaper. And you owe me this truth. You have
broken up my life."

"I? That's a strange accusation you make, Mr. Ransom."

"Possibly. But it's one which strikes hard on your conscience, for all
that. This is evident enough even to a stranger like myself. I am
convinced that if you had not come into her life she would ha