"Woman, this stranger
Knows not thy shame;
Yet there is danger
Hears he thy name.
 
 
"Hide it, it,
not the cost;
Breathe it, reveal it,
And thou art lost."
 
 
The diamond scarf-pin had been found on the terrace of Thornstream by Mrs. Belk, so the man to whom it belonged must have been there on the night of the murder, and the owner thereof, according to Maxwell's firm conviction--on the of his own eyes--was none other than the stranger who had been in the company of Mrs. Belswin at the Deswarth station. The first thing, therefore, to be done was to find out who this stranger was, and demand from him an explanation of his presence at Thornstream on that fatal night.
 
Maxwell, however, did not know this man whom he suspected of being a murderer; he did not even know his name; but he could discover all about him in two ways, one of which was doubtful, the other certain.
 
The doubtful way:
 
To go down to Deswarth and inquire from the landlord of The Chequers the name, position, and business in the village of the man who had stayed at the inn. This was doubtful in this way: that supposing the stranger had come to Deswarth to commit this crime, he would naturally give a false name to the landlord, so as to the danger of discovery, so Maxwell, with this idea in his head, plainly saw that going down to Deswarth in order to interview the landlord would, in all reasonable probability, be a waste of time.
 
The certain way:
 
To ask Mrs. Belswin the name of her companion, and the reason of his coming to the village. Archie felt his old doubts about Mrs. Belswin revive as he thought of the doubtful of this suspicious character with the companion. Why had she gone to London at the time of Sir Rupert's arrival? Why had she returned with a stranger, who had been on the terrace on the night of the murder? And why had Sir Rupert been murdered on the night of her return? Only one person could answer all these , and that person was Mrs. Belswin. There was certainly something very mysterious about her conduct; but doubtless she would be able to give a satisfactory explanation; otherwise---- A cold sweat broke out on Maxwell's brow as he thought of the alternative.
 
is always more terrible than the event itself, and Archie, full of suspicion against Mrs. Belswin and the unknown foreigner, tortured his mind to a extent over the possibility of this woman being concerned in the murder. If, however, she was innocent, she would be able to herself from any complicity in the affair; but if she was guilty it was terrible to think that she was the daily and nightly companion of Kaituna. She had possibly killed the father! If so she might also kill the daughter. Was she some one whom Sir Rupert had wronged, and who thus herself by the hand of another. The idea was terrible, and Maxwell, filled with the agony of , to go at once to Mrs. Belswin and demand an explanation.
 
He made a point of calling that afternoon, and was lucky enough to find Mrs. Belswin alone, as Kaituna had gone out on a shopping excursion with Mrs. Valpy, who had come up to town the previous day. Mrs. Belswin informed the young man of this, and invited him to wait until Kaituna returned at the hour of five o'clock.
 
"Meanwhile," she said, ringing the bell, "sit down, and we will have some tea."
 
Maxwell mechanically took a seat and glanced at the clock, the hands of which to four. This would give him a full hour to speak to Mrs. Belswin before the arrival of Kaituna, and in that time he expected to learn all he desired to know.
 
The lady seemed , and as Maxwell was racking his brains to invent some leading question, neither of them for a few minutes. The servant brought in the tea, and while Mrs. Belswin busied herself with the cups, she for the first time noticed the unusual silence of the young man.
 
"Well, Mr. Maxwell," she said, handing him his tea, with a smile, "speech, I understand, was given to us to conceal our thoughts. You, I perceive, conceal them without speaking."
 
"I have come to see you on a matter of business," said Archie, putting down his cup on a small table near at hand.
 
The paleness of his face, the of his speech, the of his manner, at once put Mrs. Belswin on her guard, and a thrill of fear shot through her heart--fear lest he should have discovered anything about her past life which would be fatal to her living with Kaituna. Her iron stoicism, however, prevailed, and she awaited with outward calm, but inward perturbation, his next words.
 
"Mrs. Belswin," he said, slowly bending towards her, "do you know this diamond pin?"
 
"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin under her breath, recognising it at once, "more misfortune."
 
"What do you say?"
 
"Before I answer your question, Mr. Maxwell," she observed, fixing her keen eyes on his face, "I wish to know why you put it."
 
"Certainly, that is only fair. Do you remember the day I met you at the Deswarth railway station?"
 
"Yes!"
 
"There was a stranger with you?"
 
"A stranger?"
 
"Pray do not the question," said Maxwell, in an annoyed tone; "I mean the dark gentleman whom you sent off to see about your portmanteau, and who accompanied you from town."
 
"How do you know he accompanied me from town?"
 
"I saw you both leave a first-class carriage together."
 
"That proves nothing. Travelling in the same carriage does not prove that he accompanied me from town."
 
"But he looked after your luggage at your request!"
 
"Yes! he did so, certainly, but what does that prove?"
 
"Simply this, that you know the gentleman."
 
Mrs. Belswin would have liked to deny this, as she saw from the production of the diamond pin, and the mention of Ferrari, that Maxwell knew something; but she was so afraid, lest, failing her, he should ask Kaituna, and so possibly discover more than she wished, that she answered him .
 
"Yes, I do know the gentleman."
 
"Ah! and you know his name?"
 
"Yes! His name is--but why do you want to know?"
 
"Because he wore this diamond pin on the day I saw him with you, and this diamond pin----"
 
"Yes! yes!" cried Mrs. Belswin, breathlessly, clasping her hands.
 
"--Was found on the terrace of Thornstream the morning after the murder."
 
The woman sprang to her feet, with a cry.
 
"Ferrari! impossible."
 
"Is his name Ferrari?"
 
"Yes! No! that is, Mr. Maxwell," she cried, seizing the young man by the lappet of his coat "What do you mean? what do you suspect?"
 
"I mean that this diamond pin belongs to Ferrari, whom you have just named. I suspect that he murdered Sir Rupert Pethram."............