"I see nothing," replied Fanks, bluntly. "Miss Varlins wrote to Axton at Jarlchester. What of that? I know Axton was at Jarlchester; I saw him there."
"Is that so?" said Monsieur Judas, eagerly; "then, behold, monsieur! Axton is at Jarlcesterre; Melstane goes down also to Jarlcesterre. Before he goes," pursued Judas, bending forward and speaking in a whisper, "he buy pills of morphia! eh! is that not so? My friend and Axton are enemies. At Jarlcesterre they meet; the poor Melstane dies of morphia! What would you?"
"Do you mean to say that Roger Axton murdered Melstane?" cried Fanks, trying to control himself.
Monsieur Judas spread out his hands once more.
"I say nothing, monsieur. But because of Miss Mar-rson they fight—they fight desperate. Axton has the pills of morphia. Melstane dies of the pills of morphia! But no, I say nothing."
"I think you've said quite enough," retorted Fanks, coldly. "I don't believe what you say."
"Monsieur!"
"Don't ruffle your feathers, Monsieur Guinaud; I mean what I say, and in order to prove it, I'll ask Roger Axton to come down here and give his version of the story."
"He can but say what I declare."
"That's a matter of opinion."