THE REPORTER OF THE "EVENING MOON" GIVES SOPHY A TREAT.

"In the elucidation of a mystery there are facts which have to be slowly and laboriously built up; there are others which need no such process but establish themselves instantly in the analytical and well-balanced mind. Our reporter is gifted with such a mind, and certain facts connected with the case of M. Felix took instant form and order. We will set these facts before our readers briefly and concisely:

"It is necessary to premise--

"First, that M. Felix kept a loaded revolver beneath the pillows of his bed.

"Second, that when Constables Wigg and Nightingale, Mrs. Middlemore, and Dr. Lamb entered M. Felix's sitting-room after the door was forced open, the window was open.

"We now proceed to the sequence of events.

"Shortly before his death M. Felix, being alone in the house in Gerard Street, received a visitor. Whether expected or unexpected, whether welcome or unwelcome, we are not prepared to state; nor are we prepared to state how this visitor obtained entrance to the house. Obtain entrance by some means he undoubtedly did, and mounting the stairs, he knocked at the door of M. Felix's sitting-room. At the moment M. Felix heard the knock he had his Indian desk open before him, and it was in connection with a secret which this desk contained, or to which a document in the desk could afford a clue, that the visit was made. M. Felix, supposing that it was his housekeeper who knocked, opened the door and admitted the intruder. A stormy scene ensued, and M. Felix, throwing open his window, screamed for help. The appeal was sent forth into the wild night more from the fear that he was about to be robbed of this secret than from the fear that his life was in danger. The hypothesis is strengthened by the fact that there were no marks of personal violence on the body of M. Felix. The visitor laid hands upon the desk, and as he did so M. Felix turned from the window, snatched up the dagger, and hurled it with all his force at the robber. The sharp point struck into the flesh of the intruder, and it was his blood which was discovered on the floor of the room. The agitation produced by the scene brought on the attack of heart disease which caused M. Felix's death. The blind and momentary delirium which ensued did not prevent M. Felix from thinking of the revolver beneath his pillows; he staggered into his bedroom, but before he reached his bed he fell lifeless in a chair. While this was going on the robber had seized the desk, and, conscious that to carry away with him the evidence of a dagger dripping with blood might lead to his detection, he threw it swiftly from him behind the sideboard. He threw it with his right hand, his back being toward the door, which accounts for the place and position in which our reporter found the weapon. Then, with the desk in his possession, he escaped from the house--ignorant of the tragedy that had occurred, ignorant that M. Felix was lying dead within a few feet of him. He left the door open, but the fierce wind through the window blew it shut. It was while it was open that the cat which alarmed Mrs. Middlemore and the two constables crept into the room, became besmeared with blood, and crept out.

"The departure of the thief was like the falling of the curtain upon a pregnant act in an exciting drama. Imagination follows the man as he flies with his stolen treasure through the deserted streets; imagination wanders to the dead form of M. Felix lying in the chair by the bedside. When the curtain rises again, what will be disclosed?

"These thoughts came to the mind of our reporter with lightning rapidity. Mrs. Middlemore had opened the street door, had closed it again, and was now ascending the stairs. What should he do with the dagger?

"To retain it would be an unwarranted act, and might be construed into a theft. To take Mrs. Middlemore into his confidence might thwart his operations in the future. He put his hand behind the sideboard, and let the dagger fall. It was now safely hidden from sight, and its presence behind the sideboard could only be discovered, by any other person than himself, by the shifting of that piece of furniture.

"Mrs. Middlemore re-entered the room.

"'It was a runaway knock,' she said, 'The boys and girls take a pleasure in it. If I could ketch one of 'em I'd bang their head agin the wall.'

"'Did you see no one at all?' asked our reporter.

"'Only some people staring up at the winders,' replied Mrs. Middlemore. 'The 'ouse 'as become a regular show since that dreadful night. What do they expect to see?'

"'Perhaps the ghost of M. Felix,' suggested our reporter, with, it must be confessed, a rather feeble attempt at humor.

"'Don't mention sech a thing, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, piteously. 'It makes my flesh creep.'

"'I only said it in joke; there are no such things as ghosts and spirits.'

"'Some people believe otherwise sir.'

"'The more fools they. Well, Mrs. Middlemore, there is nothing more I wish to ask you just now; I must get back to my duties. But I must not waste your time for nothing.'

"He pressed into her willing palm another half-sovereign, making the second he had given her.

"'I'm sure you're very kind, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, after furtively glancing at the coin, to see that it was not a sixpence. 'Shall I see you agin?'

"'Yes. Good-night, Mrs. Middlemore.'

"'Good-night, sir,' she responded, as they went down-stairs. 'I 'ope Sophy won't be gone long.'

"'She'll be back soon, I daresay.' He paused in the passage. 'Mrs. Middlemore, are you satisfied that I am your friend?'

"'Yes, sir, I am.'

"'Then, if anything new occurs, you will let me know at once.'

"'I will, sir.'

"'And if it should happen,' said our reporter, 'that you remember anything you have forgotten to tell me, you will come and let me know it?'

"'I'll be sure to, sir.'

"Wishing her good-night again, he left the house, and heard her close the street door behind him with a bang.

"It was not without a motive that our reporter had addressed his last words to her. He had an idea that she had not been quite frank with him respecting M. Felix's visitors feeling assured that she could not be so entirely in the dark regarding them as she professed to be. His visit had not been fruitless; he had become acquainted with the loss of the desk, and he had discovered the dagger with its curiously shaped handle. Two steps advanced in the mystery, which might lead to something of importance.

"He walked slowly on, revolving these matters in his mind, and debating whether he could make any present use of them when his coat was plucked by a small hand. Looking down, he saw Sophy.

"'Ah, Sophy,' he said, 'what do you want?'

"'I've been waiting for yer,' said Sophy. 'I've got somethink to tell.'

"'Good. Where shall we talk?'

"Sophy's reply was a strange one. 'I know,' she said, where they sells fried fish and fried 'taters.' She smacked her lips.

"'You would like some?'

"'Wouldn't I? Jest?'

"'Lead the way, Sophy.'

"'You're a brick, old 'un, that's what you are.'

"She walked close to him, rubbing against him after the fashion of a friendly cat, and conducted him toward the purlieus of Drury Lane.

"'You're going to stand treat, ain't yer?'

"'Yes, Sophy, to as many fried potatoes and as much fried fish as you can comfortably tuck away.'

"'No gammon, yer know?'

"'I mean what I say, Sophy.'

"'Then there's stooed eels?'

"'All right; you shall have some.'

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