room. But at the threshold she stopped short; and a singular change crept over the man's ghastly face, a change so remarkable that I looked involuntarily from him to our client. She had turned, in a moment, deadly pale, and her face had frozen into an expression of incredulous horror.
The dramatic silence was broken by the matter-of-fact voice of the detective.
"I am a police officer," said he, "and I arrest you for"
A peal of hysterical laughter from Mrs. Chater interrupted him, and he looked at her in astonishment. "Stop, stop!" she cried in a shaky voice. "I guess we've made a ridiculous mistake. This isn't the man. This gentleman is Captain Rowland, an old friend of mine."
"I'm sorry he's a friend of yours," said Miller, "because I shall have to ask you to appear against him."
"You can ask what you please," replied Mrs. Chater. "I tell you he's not the man."
The superintendent rubbed his nose and looked hungrily at his quarry. "Do I understand, madam," he asked stiffly, "that you refuse to prosecute?"
"Prosecute!" she exclaimed. "Prosecute my friends for offences that I know they have not committed? Certainly I refuse."
The superintendent looked at Thorndyke, but
