you, and not take offence if the questions seem to be personal ones?"

"Certainly," said Brenton; "I shall be glad to answer anything as long
as it has a bearing on the case."

"Very well, then, it has a very distinct bearing on the case. Do you
remember the girl Jane Morton?"

"I remember her, of course, as one of the servants in our employ. I know
very little about her, though."

"That is just what I wish to find out. Do you know _anything_ about her?"

"No; she had been in our employ but a fortnight, I think, or perhaps it
was a month. My wife attended to these details, of course. I knew the
girl was there, that is all."

The Frenchman looked very dubious as Brenton said this, while the latter
rather bridled up.

"You evidently do not believe me?" he cried.

Once more the detective gave his customary gesture, and said--

"Ah, pardon me, you are entirely mistaken. I have this to acquaint you
with. Jane Morton is the one who murdered you. She did it, she says,
partly for the sake of John, whoever he is, and partly out of revenge.
Now, of course, you are the only man who can give me information as to
the motive. That girl certainly had a motive, and I should like to find
out what the motive was."