"I can arrange everything for you, and I will, and without the least delay. But first you must tell me the whole," he said, sitting down and folding his arms. "I will not work in the dark. As to time, the loss of an hour is nothing compared with the importance of gaining my co-operation, for the moment I am convinced, I will telegraph to the court-room itself, and stop proceedings until you arrive. With my help, my name, my influence, behind you, you can accomplish anything. But what could you do alone? You would he misunderstood, misrepresented, subjected to doubt, suspicion, perhaps insult. Have you thought of this?"

"I mind nothing if I can but save him."

"But if you can save him more effectually with my assistance?"

"How can that be, when you dislike, suspect him?"

"Do you wish to drive me into a rage? Can I not be just to Ward Heathcote whether I like him or not, suspect him or not? Yes, even though I believe him to be guilty? Try me. If I promise to go with you to Multomah to-day, even if I think your presence there will be of no avail, will that induce you?"

"Yes."

"Then I promise."

Without pausing, she sat down by the table, taking a newspaper from her pocket. "You have one," she said; "please follow me in the one you have. When I saw the notice of his death, I went immediately to Helen. This woman Bagshot testifies that she was in the next room. I am positive that at first both the doors of Helen's room were closed; Bagshot, therefore, must have slightly opened one of them afterward unobserved by us. There was a curtain hanging partly over this door, but only partly; she could have opened it, therefore, but slightly, or we should have noticed the change. This accounts for the little that she caught—only those sentences that were spoken in an elevated voice, for Helen's room is large. It will shorten the story, I think, if we read the summary on the editorial page." And in a clear voice she read as follows: "'Our readers will remember that at the beginning of the Heathcote trial we expressed the opinion that until some more probable motive for the deed than the desire to obtain control of wealth already practically his own was discovered in connection with the accused, the dispassionate observer would refuse to believe his guilt, despite the threatening nature of the evidence. This motive appears now to have been supplied.' In another column parts of a remarkable conversation are given, overheard by the witness Bagshot—a conversation between Mrs. Heathcote and an unknown and beautiful young girl, who came to the house on the morning after the announcement of Captain Heathcote's death in the Shenandoah Valley, and before the contradiction of the same had been received. This young girl was a stranger to the man Simpson, who opened the front door, and Simpson has been in Mrs. Heathcote's service for some time. He testifies that she was denied entrance, Mrs. Heathcote not being able to see any one. She then tore a leaf from her note-book, wrote a line upon it, and requested him to carry it to his mistress, adding that she thought Mrs. Heathcote would see her. As intimate friends had already been refused, Simpson was incredulous, but performed his duty. To his surprise, Mrs. Heathcote sent Bagshot to say that the stranger was to come to her immediately, and accordingly she was ushered up stairs, and the door closed. Upon being questioned as to what the line of writing was, Simpson replied that he did not read it. Bagshot, however, testifies that, in accordance with her duty, she cast her eye over it, and that it contained the following words: "Do let me come to you. Crystal." The word "Crystal" was a signature, and Mrs. Heathcote seemed to recognize it. Bagshot testifies that the visitor was young and beautiful, although plainly, almost poorly, dressed, and that she remained with Mrs. Heathcote nearly two hours. Very soon after her departure the telegraphic dispatch was received announcing Captain Heathcote's safety, and then the wife started on that fatal journey which was to end in death.

"'This woman, Bagshot, so far the most important witness in the case, testifies that she heard only parts of the conversation—a few detached sentences which were spoken in an elevated tone. But, disconnected as the phrases are, they are brimming with significance. The important parts of her story are as follows: First, she heard Mrs. Heathcote say, "I shall never rest until you tell me all!" Second, that she cried out excitedly: "You have robbed me of his love. I will never forgive you." Third, that she said, rapidly and in a high, strained voice: "Since he saw you he has never loved me; I see it now. He married me from pity, no doubt thinking that I was near death. How many times he must have wished me dead indeed! I wonder that he has not murdered me." Fourth, that later she said: "Yes, he has borne it so far, and now he is dead. But if he were alive, I should have taunted him with it. Do you hear? I say I should have taunted him." Fifth (and most remarkable of all), that this stranger made a strong and open avowal of her own love for the dead man, the extraordinary words of which are given in another column. There are several other sentences, but they are unfinished and comparatively unimportant.

"'The intelligent observer will not fail to note the significance of this testimony, which bears upon the case not only by supplying a motive for the deed, but also, possibly, its immediate cause, in the words of the deeply roused and jealous wife: "I should have taunted him with it. I say I should have taunted him."