"But I would prefer your doing so," said Roger, urgently.
"Very well," replied Fanks, calmly putting the box in his pocket; "I will see about it to-morrow. But now you have set my mind at rest on this point, and I have told you my story, tell me yours."
Roger paled a little at this request, and remained silent for a few moments.
"Fanks," he said at last, with great solemnity, "you have your suspicions of me now, and perhaps when I tell you all, you may consider them to be confirmed. What then?"
"What then?" echoed Fanks, cheerfully. "Simply this. Knowing your character as I do, I don't believe you would be guilty of a cold-blooded murder, so when you tell me your story we will put our heads together and try to find out the true criminal."
"I'll be only too glad to do that," said Roger, gratefully, "if only to regain your confidence which I have lost."
"Well, go on with your story."
"I told you a good deal of it at Jarlchester," replied Axton, looking at the fire thoughtfully; "but I will reveal now what I concealed then. The first time I met Judith Varlins was in this town. I came down with letters of introduction from a London friend to Mr. Marson, and he made me free of his house—in fact, he wanted me to stay there; but though I am poor I am proud, so preferred to put up at Binter's Boarding-house."
"Yes, I know that place."
"How so?"