"When was it arranged that the three of you were to go together to the continent?"
"Yesterday."
"Last night, you mean."
"Well, last night. That is yesterday."
"It was Maxwell who suggested it?"
"Yes."
"After he had followed a certain person home from Madame Lourbet's shop?"
"You are well informed," said Mrs. Fordham, bitterly.
"There is very little in this rascally affair," I responded, "upon which I am not well informed, but it is always satisfactory to receive confirmation. I have no further questions to ask at present. What I require now is a plain statement of facts. Relate what occurred after Maxwell stabbed you."
I do not propose to set it down in Louis' own words. Mrs. Fordham wished to give me the information, but I would not receive it from her, although it was to her eagerness to prove Louis' innocence that I was indebted for some part of the disclosure. For the filling in of the narrative I am also indebted to the natural intelligence of a man who knows his business, that man, without any affectation of false modesty, being myself. The importance of this disclosure cannot be exaggerated. It filled up the gaps of the mystery, and made the whole thing clear.