"But what will become of him?" she asked again.
I shrugged my shoulders, and to satisfy her said he would be brought up at the police court, and would be remanded.
"And then?"
"He will be remanded two or three times to enable the police to make inquiries, after which he will be committed for trial."
"And acquitted?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands, and with such an appealing look in her eyes—as though I were the judge who was trying the man—that I held my breath and made no reply. The suspicion that flashed upon me—that she had come to ask my assistance in this very murder—staggered me; but I steadied myself, and inquired if it really was the case.
"Yes," she answered. "You believe him guilty?"
"From what is stated here I can come to no other conclusion."
At this she fairly broke down, and I sat staring open-mouthed at her tears and misery. Dropping her veil over her face she tottered to the door, and was about to leave when I stopped her.
"No, Miss Cameron," I said; "you must not go away like that. You have come to ask my assistance, and I will give it you. There may be some mystery here which needs unraveling. I place myself honestly and unreservedly at your service. But you must be absolutely frank with me; to enable me to serve you nothing must be concealed—understand, nothing."
Let me confess, though the stronger reason for this offer was to be found in the interest I took in Miss Cameron, in my sympathy for her, that I was urged thereto by a less powerful motive. My professional pride was aroused by the suggestion of a mystery which I might be the means of bringing to light. To a man like myself, nothing more attractive could present itself.