In the presence of Herries, the Inspector examined Mrs. Narby, who from being voluble, now became tongue-tied. Mrs. Narby's youth had brought her into frequent contact with the Whitechapel police, and she knew the value of silence. Everything had to be clawed out of her by persistent questioning, and all her answers went to prove that Herries was assuredly the guilty person. As her vernacular was vile and harsh, it will be as well to give the gist of her evidence in decent English.

Sir Simon Tedder, she said, had arrived about half-past six on the previous night, just before Herries came. He said that he wanted a parlour and a bedroom, as he was expecting a gentleman to call about eight o'clock. But the expected visitor never arrived and Sir Simon--he had not given any name, nor had Mrs. Narby asked him for one--seemed much annoyed. At ten o'clock he had retired to bed, after paying the score, and announced that he would depart, without breakfast, at eight in the morning. Mrs. Narby confessed that she saw him--as she believed--pass through the tap-room in his fur coat about that hour. He said nothing to her, and she said nothing to him, being well-pleased with the liberal sum he had paid her. She thought that having come to the inn secretly, he wished to preserve his incognito, so let him pass out without a word. But at ten o'clock--that is two hours later--the real Sir Simon had been found dead in his bed. Without doubt, the man who escaped through the tap-room could not have been the millionaire.

"But surely," said Trent, who was taking copious notes, "you must have guessed that the man who went away was not Sir Simon."

Mrs. Narby placed her stout arms akimbo and raged.

"I never know'd es 'is naime wos Sir Simon, or anythink else," said she shrilly. "An' th' gent es parsed through th' tap-room wos tall an' stout, same es this Sir Simon y' torks of. He wore the same fur coat es Sir Simon wore wen he come inter this very parlour overnight, so 'ow wos I t' know es the gent es slung 'is 'ook at eight this mornin' wasn't th' same es come et harlf-past six in th' evenin'."

"Are you sure it was the same fur coat?"

"Yuss," said Mrs. Narby, stoutly, "there ain't no fur coat lef' in' th' bedroom of th' gent es lies a deader. I looked fur it," added the landlady defiantly, "es I sawr th' value, an' wanted summat fur my bein' ruined by 'im," and she pointed towards Herries.

"I never killed him," muttered Herries, wearily. It 

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