it is indeed misplaced."

"Then you have not made any discovery?"

"On the contrary, it is all as plain as your big buildings here. It
is not for that reason, but because it is so simple that I should be
foolish to feel satisfaction regarding it."

"Then who is the person?"

"The assassin," replied the Frenchman, "is one whom no one has seemed to
think of, and yet one on whom suspicion should have been the first to
fall. The person who did Monsieur Brenton the honour to poison him is
none other than the servant girl, Jane Morton."




CHAPTER IX.


"Jane Morton!" cried Speed; "who is she?"

"She is, as you may remember, the girl who carried the coffee from Mrs.
Brenton to monsieur."

"And are you sure she is the criminal?"

The great detective did not answer; he merely gave an expressive little
French gesture, as though the question was not worth commenting upon.