"Nor Ferruci?"
"No. I never heard the name before," replied Jorce complacently.
"Strange!" said Denzil reflectively. "Yet Wrent seems to be at the bottom of the whole plot. Well, never mind, just now. Please continue, my dear Doctor. What did Mrs. Clear say?"
"Oh, she repeated Ferruci's story, amplified in a feminine fashion. She was afraid of Michael, who, when excited with morphia or drink, would snatch up a knife to attempt her life. Twice she had disarmed him, and now she was tired and frightened. She was willing for him to go into my asylum since Count Ferruci had so kindly consented to bear the expense, but she wished to give him one more chance. Then, as it was late, she stayed here all night. So did the Count, and on Christmas Day they went away."
"When did they come back?"
"About a fortnight later, and they brought with them the man they both called Michael Clear."
"What is he like?"
"An old man with a white beard."
"Is he mad?" asked Lucian bluntly.