Pausing just long enough to give emphasis to what he would next say, he continued:
“I arrived here last Thursday, as you will remember. I made my first appearance before you at the dinner table. There was one guest who was in the house at that time, and who is present now, in this room, who did not appear at the dinner table that night. I did not then know that that guest was here.
“Many of you will remember that we passed a pleasant evening, and that the guest to whom I have referred did not come downstairs at all during it. Also, that we parted early and that I complained of being very tired with my long ride.”
There were nods in the affirmative, around the room.
“Notwithstanding the fact that I was greatly fatigued,” he continued, “I could not go to sleep. Some time during the middle of the night I left my bed, partly dressed myself, and descended to the library to obtain a book, intending to read myself to sleep; but, as I stepped into the library, I discovered that it was occupied, and that one of the persons who was there was the guest to whom I have referred, and who was not present at the dinner table.
“That guest, as you may have surmised, was a woman. She was not alone when I discovered her in the library. There was a man there, with her, and they were bending across the library tables, conversing in whispers, so low that I could not hear what was said. At the moment I did not suspect more than a clandestine meeting—and, inasmuch as I recognized the aforesaid guest as an old acquaintance, and knew a great deal about her, I was not surprised.
“I withdrew, as silently as I had gone there; and as I did so I heard just one remark that passed between the two. It was made by the man, to the woman, and he said: ‘Very well, then. I will return here next Monday night.’”
Jimmy paused a moment to permit his words to take full effect.
“The day following, which was Friday,” he continued, “I was duly presented to the woman in question. She did not remember me, or if she did, succeeded in concealing the fact from me, as well as from others. Some years have passed since I saw her, and at that time she was—well, she was associated with the notorious character whose name has been mentioned by Detective Carter to-night; with the notorious Bare-Faced Jimmy Duryea, who is now dead, although Mr. Carter seems not to know that fact. I will say one word more about that man, although it pains me to do so. He was a burglar, a thief, everything that was bad and low, but he was my cousin, and his real name was the same as mine. Moreover, there was a personal resemblance between us. I can tell more about him when the proper time comes.”
Again he came to a pause, and found this during it to glance exultingly around toward the detective. Then he continued: