"I am quite ignorant of chemistry," said Ferruci sullenly.
"Jorce heard a different story in Florence."
"In Florence! Did Jorce ask about me there?" said the Count in alarm.
"He did, and heard some strange tales, Count. Come, now, it is no use your trying to evade this matter further. Jorce can prove that you put Vrain into his asylum under the name of Clear. Miss Vrain can prove that the so-called Clear is her father, and Mrs. Clear—who has turned Queen's evidence—has exposed the whole of your conspiracy. The game's up, Count."
Ferruci sprang from his seat and began to walk hastily up and down the room. He looked haggard and pale, and years older, as he recognised his position, for he saw very plainly that he was trapped, and that nothing remained to him but flight. But how to fly? He stopped opposite to Lucian.
"What do you intend to do?" he demanded in a hoarse voice.
"Have you arrested, along with Mrs. Vrain," replied Lucian, making this threat to force Ferruci into defending himself or confessing.
"Mrs. Vrain is innocent—she knows nothing about this conspiracy, as you call it. I planned the whole thing myself."
"You admit, then, that the so-called Vrain was really Michael Clear?"