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190 his honor by Mr. Dumphy, he would have been less complacent in his victory. "I didn't mean to suspect you" said Dumphy at last, with a forced smile. "I hope you'll excuse me. I know you're my friend. But you're all wrong about these papers; you are, Poinsett, I swear. I know if the fact were known to outsiders, it would look queer if not explained. But whose business is it, anyway—legally, I mean?" "No one's, unless Devarges has friends or heirs." "He hadn't any." "There's that wife!" "Bah!—she was divorced!" "Indeed! You told me, on our last interview, that she really was the widow of Devarges." "Never mind that now," said Dumphy, impatiently. "Look here! You know as well as I do that no matter how many discoveries Devarges made, they weren't worth a cent if he hadn't done some work on them—improved or opened them." "But that is not the point at issue just now," said Arthur. "Nobody is going to contest your claim or sue you for damages. But they might try to convict you of a crime. They might say that breaking into the cairn was burglary, and the taking of the papers theft." "But how are they going to prove that?" "No matter. Listen to me, and don't let us drift away from the main point. The question that concerns you is this: An impostor sets up a claim to be your wife; you and I know she is an impostor, and can prove it. She knows that, but knows also that in attempting to prove it you lay yourself open to some grave charges which she doubtless stands ready to make." "Well, then, the first thing to do is to find out who she is, what she knows, and what she wants, eh?" said Dumphy. "No," said Arthur, quietly, "the first thing to do is to prove that your wife is really dead; and to do that, you must show that Grace Conroy was alive when the body purporting to be hers, but which was really your wife's, was discovered. Once establish that fact, and you destroy the credibility of the Spanish reports, and you need not fear any revelation from that source regarding the missing papers. And that is the only source from which evidence against you can be procured. But when you destroy the validity of that report, you of course destroy the credibility of all concerned in making it. And as I was concerned in making it, of course it won't do for you to put me on the stand." Notwithstanding Dumphy's disappointment, he could not help yielding to a sudden respect for the superior rascal who thus cleverly slipped out of responsibility. "But," added Arthur, coolly, "you'll have no difficuly in establishing the fact of Grace's survival by others." Dumphy thought at once of Ramirez. Here was a man who had seen and conversed with Grace when she had, in the face of the Spanish Commander, indignantly asserted her identity and the falsity of the report. No witness could be more satisfactory and convincing. But to make use of him, he must first take Arthur into his confidence; must first expose the conspiracy of Madame Devarges to personate Grace, and his own complicity with the transaction. He hesitated. Nevertheless, he had been lately tortured by a suspicion that the late Madame Devarges was in some way connected with the later conspiracy against himself, and he longed to avail himself of Arthur's superior sagacity, and after a second reflection he concluded to do it. With the same practical conciseness of statement that he had used in relating Col. Starbottle's interview with himself, he told the story of Madame Devarges's brief personation of Grace Conroy, and its speedy and felicitous ending in Mrs. Conroy. Arthur listened with unmistakable interest and a slowly heightening color. When Dumphy had concluded he sat for a moment apparently lost in thought. "Well?" at last said Dumphy, interrogatively and impatiently. Arthur started. "Well," he said, rising and replacing his hat with the air of a man who had thoroughly exhausted his subject, "your frankness has saved me a world of trouble." "How?" said Dumphy. "There is no necessity for looking any further for your alleged wife. She exists at present as Mrs. Conroy, alias Madame Devarges, alias Grace Conroy. Ramirez is your witness. You couldn't have a more willing one." "Then my suspicions are correct." "I don't know on what you based them. But here is a woman who has unlimited power over men, particularly over one man, Gabriel!—who alone, of all men but ourselves, knows the facts regarding your desertion of your wife in Starvation Camp, her death,