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A FIRST COURSE IN
FUNCTIONAL
ANALYSIS
A FIRST COURSE IN
FUNCTIONAL
ANALYSIS

ORR MOSHE SHALIT

Technion - Israel Institute of Technology
Haifa, Israel

Boca Raton London New York

CRC Press is an imprint of the

Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
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Title: A first course in functional analysis / Orr Moshe Shalit.
Description: Boca Raton : CRC Press, [2016] | Includes bibliographical references and
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Identifiers: LCCN 2016045930| ISBN 9781498771610 (hardback : alk. paper) | ISBN
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 To my mother and my father, Malka and Meir Shalit

Author’s personal revised version. For students and friends. Feel free to use
for self study. Please do not post, distribute, tweet, etc. without permission.
Contents

Preface xi

1 Introduction and the Stone-Weierstrass theorem 1

1.1 Background and motivation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.2 The Weierstrass approximation theorem . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.3 The Stone-Weierstrass theorem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
1.4 The Stone-Weierstrass theorem over the complex numbers . 8
1.5 Concluding remarks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
1.6 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

2 Hilbert spaces 13
2.1 Background and motivation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
2.2 The basic definitions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
2.3 Completion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
2.4 The space of Lebesgue square integrable functions . . . . . . 21
2.5 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

3 Orthogonality, projections, and bases 29

3.1 Orthogonality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
3.2 Orthogonal projection and orthogonal decomposition . . . . 30
3.3 Orthonormal bases . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
3.4 Dimension and isomorphism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
3.5 The Gram-Schmidt process . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
3.6 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40

4 Fourier series 45
4.1 Fourier series in L2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
4.2 Pointwise convergence of Fourier series (Dirichlet’s theorem) 50
4.3 Fejér’s theorem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
4.4 *Proof of Dirichlet’s theorem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
4.5 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

5 Bounded linear operators on Hilbert space 63

5.1 Bounded operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
5.2 Linear functionals and the Riesz representation theorem . . . 66
5.3 *The Dirichlet problem for the Laplace operator . . . . . . . 67

vii
viii Contents

5.4 The adjoint of a bounded operator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72

5.5 Special classes of operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
5.6 Matrix representation of operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
5.7 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77

6 Hilbert function spaces 85

6.1 Hilbert function spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
6.2 *The Bergman space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89
6.3 *Additional topics in Hilbert function space theory . . . . . 93
6.4 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102

7 Banach spaces 105

7.1 Banach spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
7.2 Bounded operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
7.3 The dual space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
7.4 *Topological vector spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115
7.5 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116

8 The algebra of bounded operators on a Banach space 121

8.1 The algebra of bounded operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
8.2 An application to ergodic theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
8.3 Invertible operators and inverses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
8.4 *Isomorphisms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
8.5 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133

9 Compact operators 139

9.1 Compact operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
9.2 The spectrum of a compact operator . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
9.3 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144

10 Compact operators on Hilbert space 147

10.1 Finite rank operators on Hilbert space . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
10.2 The spectral theorem for compact self-adjoint operators . . . 148
10.3 The spectral theorem for compact normal operators . . . . . 152
10.4 The functional calculus for compact normal operators . . . . 154
10.5 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157

11 Applications of the theory of compact operators 163

11.1 Integral equations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
11.2 *Functional equations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173
11.3 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
 Contents ix

12 The Fourier transform 179

12.1 The spaces Lp (R), p ∈ [1, ∞) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179
12.2 The Fourier transform on L1 (R) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184
12.3 The Fourier transform on L2 (R) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
12.4 *Shannon’s sampling theorem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
12.5 *The multivariate Fourier transforms . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196
12.6 Additional exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199

13 *The Hahn-Banach theorems 203

13.1 The Hahn-Banach theorems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
13.2 The dual space, the double dual, and duality . . . . . . . . . 211
13.3 Quotient spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
13.4 Additional excercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216

Appendix A Metric and topological spaces 219

A.1 Metric spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
A.2 Completeness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223
A.3 Topological spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
A.4 The Arzelà-Ascoli theorem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233

Bibliography 235

Index 237
Preface

In a nutshell
The purpose of this book is to serve as the accompanying text for a first
course in functional analysis, taken typically by second- and third-year under-
graduate students majoring in mathematics.
As I prepared for my first time teaching such a course, I found nothing
among the countless excellent textbooks in functional analysis available that
perfectly suited my needs. I ended up writing my own lecture notes, which
evolved into this book (an earlier version appeared on my blog [31]).
The main goals of the course this book is designed to serve are to in-
troduce the student to key notions in functional analysis (complete normed
spaces, bounded operators, compact operators), alongside significant applica-
tions, with a special emphasis on the Hilbert space setting. The emphasis on
Hilbert spaces allows for a rapid development of several topics: Fourier series
and the Fourier transform, as well as the spectral theorem for compact normal
operators on a Hilbert space. I did not try to give a comprehensive treatment
of the subject, the opposite is true. I did my best to arrange the material in
a coherent and effective way, leaving large portions of the theory for a later
course. The students who finish this course will be ready (and hopefully, ea-
ger) for further study in functional analysis and operator theory, and will have
at their disposal a set of tools and a state of mind that may come in handy
in any mathematical endeavor they embark on.
The text is written for a reader who is either an undergraduate student,
or the instructor in a particular kind of undergraduate course on functional
analysis. The background required from the undergraduate student taking this
course is minimal: basic linear algebra, calculus up to Riemann integration,
and some acquaintance with topological and metric spaces (in fact, the basics
of metric spaces will suffice; and all the required material in topology/metric
spaces is collected in the appendix).
Some “mathematical maturity” is also assumed. This means that the read-
ers are expected to be able to fill in some details here and there, not freak out
when bumping into a slight abuse of notation, and so forth.

More details on the contents and on some choices made

This book is tailor-made to accompany the course Introduction to Func-
tional Analysis given at the Technion — Israel Institute of Technology. The

xi
xii Preface

official syllabus of the course is roughly: basic notions of Hilbert spaces and
Banach spaces, bounded operators, Fourier series and the Fourier transform,
the Stone-Weierstrass theorem, the spectral theorem for compact normal op-
erators on a Hilbert space, and some applications. A key objective, not less
important than the particular theorems taught, is to convey some underlying
principles of modern analysis.
The design was influenced mainly by the official syllabus, but I also took
into account the relative place of the course within the curriculum. The back-
ground that I could assume (mentioned above) did not include courses on
Lebesgue integration or complex analysis. Another thing to keep in mind was
that besides this course, there was no other course in the mathematics un-
dergraduate curriculum giving a rigorous treatment of Fourier series or the
Fourier transform. I therefore had to give these topics a respectable place in
class. Finally, I also wanted to keep in mind that students who will continue
on to graduate studies in analysis will take the department’s graduate course
on functional analysis, in which the Hahn-Banach theorems and the conse-
quences of Baire’s theorem are treated thoroughly. This allowed me to omit
these classical topics with a clean conscience, and use my limited time for
a deeper study in the context of Hilbert spaces (weak convergence, inverse
mapping theorem, spectral theorem for compact normal operators), including
some significant applications (PDEs, Hilbert functions spaces, Pick interpo-
lation, the mean ergodic theorem, integral equations, functional equations,
Fourier series and the Fourier transform).
An experienced and alert reader might have recognized the inherent pitfall
in the plan: how can one give a serious treatment of L2 spaces, and in particular
the theory of Fourier series and the Fourier transform, without using the
Lebesgue integral? This is a problem which many instructors of introductory
functional analysis face, and there are several solutions which can be adopted.
In some departments, the problem is eliminated altogether, either by mak-
ing a course on Lebesgue integration a prerequisite to a course on functional
analysis, or by keeping the introductory course on functional analysis free of
Lp spaces, with the main examples of Banach spaces being sequence spaces
or spaces of continuous functions. I personally do not like either of these easy
solutions. A more pragmatic solution is to use the Lebesgue integral as much
as is needed, and to compensate for the students’ background by either giving
a crash course on Lebesgue integration or by waving one’s hands where the
going gets tough.
I chose a different approach: hit the problem head on using the tools avail-
able in basic functional analysis. I define the space L2 [a, b] to be the completion
of the space of piecewise continuous functions on [a, b] equipped with the norm
Rb
kf k2 = ( a |f (t)|2 dt)1/2 , which is defined in terms of the familiar Riemann in-
tegral. We can then use the Hilbert space framework to derive analytic results,
such as convergence of Fourier series of elements in L2 [a, b], and in particular
we can get results on Fourier series for honest functions, such as L2 conver-
 Preface xiii

gence for piecewise continuous functions, or uniform convergence for periodic

and C 1 functions.
Working in this fashion may seem clumsy when one is already used to
working with the Lebesgue integral, but, for many applications to analysis
it suffices. Moreover, it shows some of the advantages of taking a functional
analytic point of view. I did not invent the approach of defining Lp spaces as
completions of certain space of nice functions, but I think that this book is
unique in the extent to which the author really adheres to this approach: once
the spaces are defined this way, we never look back, and everything is done
with no measure theory.
To illustrate, in Section 8.2.2 we prove the mean ergodic theorem. A mea-
sure preserving composition operator on L2 [0, 1] is defined first on the dense
subspace of continuous functions, and then extended by continuity to the com-
pletion. The mean ergodic theorem is proved by Hilbert space methods, as a
nice application of some basic operator theory. The statement (see Theorem
8.2.5) in itself is significant and interesting even for piecewise continuous func-
tions — one does not need to know the traditional definition of L2 in order
to appreciate it.
Needless to say, this approach was taken because of pedagogical con-
straints, and I encourage all my students to take a course on measure the-
ory if they are serious about mathematics, especially if they are interested in
functional analysis. The disadvantages of the approach we take to L2 spaces
are highlighted whenever we stare them in the face; for example, in Section
5.3, where we obtain the existence of weak solutions to PDEs in the plane,
but fall short of showing that weak solutions are (in some cases) solutions in
the classical sense.
The choice of topics and their order was also influenced by my personal
teaching philosophy. For example, Hilbert spaces and operators on them are
studied before Banach spaces and operators on them. The reasons for this are
(a) I wanted to get to significant applications to analysis quickly, and (b)
I do not think that there is a point in introducing greater generality before
one can prove significant results in that generality. This is surely not the most
efficient way to present the material, but there are plenty of other books giving
elegant and efficient presentations, and I had no intention — nor any hope —
of outdoing them.

How to use this book

A realistic plan for teaching this course in the format given at the Technion
(13 weeks, three hours of lectures and one hour of exercises every week) is
to use the material in this book, in the order it appears, from Chapter 1
up to Chapter 12, skipping Chapters 6 and 11. In such a course, there is
often time to include a section or two from Chapters 6 or 11, as additional
illustrative applications of the theory. Going through the chapters in the order
xiv Preface

they appear, skipping chapters or sections that are marked by an asterisk,

gives more or less the version of the course that I taught.
In an undergraduate program where there is a serious course on harmonic
analysis, one may prefer to skip most of the parts on Fourier analysis (except
L2 convergence of Fourier series), and use the rest of the book as a basis for
the course, either giving more time for the applications, or by teaching the
material in Chapter 13 on the Hahn-Banach theorems. I view the chapter on
the Hahn-Banach theorems as the first chapter in further studies in functional
analysis. In the course that I taught, this topic was given as supplementary
reading to highly motivated and capable students.
There are exercises spread throughout the text, which the students are
expected to work out. These exercises play an integral part in the development
of the material. Additional exercises appear at the end of every chapter. I
recommend for the student, as well as the teacher, to read the additional
exercises, because some of them contain interesting material that is good to
know (e.g., Gibbs phenomenon, von Neumann’s inequality, Hilbert-Schmidt
operators). The teaching assistant will also find among the exercises some
material better suited for tutorials (e.g., the solution of the heat equation, or
the diagonalization of the Fourier transform). There is no solutions manual,
but I invite any instructor who uses this book to teach a course, to contact
me if there is an exercise that they cannot solve. With time I may gradually
compile a collection of solutions to the most difficult problems.
Some of the questions are original, most of them are not. Having been a
student and a teacher in functional and harmonic analysis for several years,
I have already seen many similar problems appearing in many places, and
some problems are so natural to ask that it does not seem appropriate to
try to trace who deserves credit for “inventing” them. I only give reference to
questions that I deliberately “borrowed” in the process of preparing this book.
The same goes for the body of the material: most of it is standard, and I see
no need to cite every mathematician involved; however, if a certain reference
influenced my exposition, credit is given.
The appendix contains all the material from metric and topological spaces
that is used in this book. Every once in while a serious student — typically
majoring in physics or electrical engineering — comes and asks if he or she can
take this course without having taken a course on metric spaces. The answer
is: yes, if you work through the appendix, there should be no problem.

Additional reading and alternative texts

There are countless good introductory texts on functional analysis and
operator theory, and the bibliography contains a healthy sample. As a student
and later as a teacher of functional analysis, I especially enjoyed and was
influenced by the books by Gohberg and Goldberg [12], Devito [6], Kadison
and Ringrose [16], Douglas [8], Riesz and Sz.-Nagy [26], Rudin [27], Arveson
[3], Reed and Simon [24], and Lax [18]. These are all recommended, but only
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"You! you! Ah, Harold!"

"Go away, sir, go away," said Mr. Scarse, curtly. Then he began to
push through the crowd with Brenda clinging to his arm.

"I must speak to Miss Scarse," insisted the Dutchman, following.

The old man turned on him like a wolf. "There is no Miss Scarse," he
said firmly. "My daughter is now Mrs. Harold Burton."

CHAPTER XVI.

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS.

As the full meaning of those words came upon him, Van Zwieten
paled. His wicked eyes flashed fire, and he uttered an oath which,
being in Dutch, was happily unintelligible to those around him. For
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hurried on through the crowd.

Before the Dutchman could recover his presence of mind, there were
already two or three lines of people between him and those whom
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Conjecturing that they would probably go to the railway station, Van
Zwieten hurried thither. If he did not find them in the London train,
then he would wait till he did. In any case he swore to get at the
truth about this marriage. Their punishment should follow.

On his part, Mr. Scarse, seeing the devil which looked out of the
Dutchman's eyes, knew that the man thus baffled was prepared to
go to any lengths; and that being so, he was only too anxious to
escape from so dangerous a neighborhood.

Taken up with her own sorrow, Brenda had paid no attention to the
presence or foreboding glance of Van Zwieten, but submitted blindly
to be guided through the crowd. All she longed for was to get to
some quiet place where she could give way unrestrained to this grief
that shook her whole being. And her father instinctively divined what
she desired and said no word to comfort her, but hurried her on to
the station, and by the judicious bestowal of half a sovereign
secured a carriage to themselves. The man touched his hat, and
after locking the door, walked off to see if any other person's sorrow
would take such tangible and wholly excellent form.

There in the corner of the carriage Brenda lay back and wept for her
lost husband, whom--it might be--she would never see again. But
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Zwieten. His mind travelled quite as quickly as that of the Dutchman,
and he guessed that he would come on to the station on the chance
of finding himself and Brenda in the London express.

The inspector came along, unlocked the door, and tried to hustle a
couple of weeping women into the carriage but Mr. Scarse gave his
name and whispered that he had engaged the carriage, whereupon
the inspector promptly conducted the mourners to another
compartment. In his hurry he did not lock the door, which, as it
turned out, was unfortunate.
With great anxiety Mr. Scarse watched the minute hand of the
station clock crawl round to the hour at which the train was timed to
start. He turned hot and cold at the thought that Van Zwieten might
come. He had a very shrewd idea of the Dutchman's present mood.
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"Thank God!" cried Mr. Scarse, throwing himself back into his seat.
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Vain congratulation! It was as if he had tempted the gods. Hardly

had the train commenced to move when the door of the carriage
was dashed open, and Van Zwieten hurled himself into the
compartment like a charging buffalo. Brenda uttered a cry of alarm;
her father swore--a thing he very seldom permitted himself to do;
and the Dutchman, now quite master of his vile temper, smiled
blandly and subsided into a seat. He cleared his throat to explain
himself. Brenda cast on him one look of ineffable contempt, although
she was far from feeling contemptuous, and did so merely out of
bravado. Then she drew her veil down and glanced out of the
window. If she was forced to travel with him, she was not forced to
speak to him; and besides she felt quite safe having her father to
protect her, and knowing how different now was his attitude toward
the Dutchman. Van Zwieten smiled unpleasantly. He knew well how
to rouse her out of that indifference, and he would do so when he
judged the proper time had come. Meanwhile he explained himself
to the enraged Scarse, whose blood was on fire at the creature's
insolence.

"Notwithstanding the very elaborate pains at which you were to

reserve this carriage, Scarse, I trust you are sufficiently hospitable
not to mind my joining you," he said coolly.

"I mind very much, sir!" cried the other. "How dare you thrust your
company where it is not wanted? My daughter and I can dispense
with your presence."
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this unexpected resistance on the part of the hitherto meek M. P.;
"but you see I have a great deal to say to you and Miss Scarse."

"Mrs. Burton, if you please," Brenda said in a cutting tone.

Van Zwieten bowed his fair head in a cruelly ironical manner. "I beg
your pardon, I did not know I was a day after the fair. But it seems
to me most strange that you should be married when your father
promised me that I should be your husband."

"I did nothing of the sort," said Mr. Scarse, bluntly.

"I promised to consent to your marrying my daughter if she chose to

have you. But as she had a very distinct preference for Captain
Burton, I agreed to that. And I'm glad of it!" he cried with energy;
"at least she has married an honorable man!"

"I also am an honorable man. I have kept your secret--up to the

present----"

"My secret?" cried the other, contemptuously. "Oh! tell it to whom

you please."

Van Zwieten bit his lip to prevent an exhibition of the surprise he felt
at this unexpected defiance. "In that case I had better begin with
Miss Sca--I beg your pardon--with Mrs. Burton. She would like to
know----"

"She does know," interrupted Brenda, in her clear voice. "There is

nothing left for you to tell, Meinherr van Zwieten!"

"Ach! You make me out to be Dutch, then! You are wrong--I am

English."

"Quite so; until it suits you to become a Boer."

"We shall see. Oh, you will not have it all your own way in this war,
you English. But enough of this," he went on imperiously. "You
know, then, that your father and his twin brother killed Mr. Malet?"

"I know nothing of the sort," retorted Brenda, with spirit. "You had
better take the case into court and prove your assertion."

"Think of the scandal!"

"I can face all that," cried Mr. Scarse, sharply. "If you think to
blackmail me, Van Zwieten, you have come to the wrong person. So
far as what I told you is concerned, you are harmless; you can do
nothing."

"Perhaps not. I won't even try. But the arrows are not all out of my
quiver yet. For you, old man, I care nothing, you cross not my path,
so I can spare you; but as for Brenda----"

The girl turned fearlessly upon him. "I will thank you, sir, to address
me by my proper name, which is Mrs. Burton!"

Van Zwieten winced. He felt his position intensely, though he put a

brave face on it. Brenda saw this, and realized the strain he was
putting on himself to keep down his temper.

"Mrs. Burton! Well, let it be so for the present--until you change it

for Mrs. van Zwieten."

"That will be never!"

"Oh, yes--when you are a widow."

Brenda shuddered, and fell back on her cushions; but her father
leaned forward and shook his fist at the Dutchman. "I am an old
man," he said hoarsely, "and you are young and strong, but if you
insult my daughter I will strike you! In any case, you will leave the
carriage at the next station."
"It is yet a quarter of an hour away," sneered Van Zwieten, looking
at his watch, "so that will be time enough to say what I have to say.
I do not think you will ask me to go when you hear all?"

"I am not afraid," said Brenda, coolly, "my father is here to protect
me. And we are in England, Meinherr van Zwieten, not in your
barbarous country of the Transvaal."

"Ah, you English will find it sufficiently civilized in warfare," said the
man, savagely. "But I will come to the point. You are married to this
Captain Burton. Is that true, or is it not?"

"True? Of course it is true."

"Let me speak, father," put in Brenda. "Yes, it is true. We were

married at St. Chad's Church, Brighton, four days ago."

"Just time for a honeymoon--a very short honeymoon," sneered Van

Zwieten; but the perspiration was on his face, and the girl could see
that he was suffering. She was glad to see it, and continued to
speak, knowing that every word she uttered caused the villain
intense pain. Callous as Van Zwieten was in most things, he was a
true lover, and suffered only as a strong man like himself could
suffer.

"If you like to go to the church you can see the register," she went
on carelessly. "My father was present, so was Lady Jenny Malet."
She looked him full in the face as she mentioned the name, but he
did not flinch. Whatever power Lady Jenny might have over him, he
was apparently ignorant of its existence.

"It is a pity you did not ask me," he said, clenching his hands. "I
should have completed the happy family party. Well, Burton has
escaped now. We shall see if he will be so fortunate in the future."

"Ah! you would murder him--I know it!" said Brenda, scornfully. "But
he can take care of himself."
"Very likely, Mrs. Burton; but can he protect himself from the law?"

"What do you mean? That you are going to accuse my husband of

Mr. Malet's murder? You are quite capable of it."

"I am; and I can prove that he is guilty."

Mr. Scarse cast an angry glance at the man. "You are a liar, Van
Zwieten," he said savagely. "I wonder how I ever came to believe in
you. You accuse first me of the crime, then my brother; now it is
Harold Burton you would ruin. We are all three innocent."

"Two of you, we will say. But the third is guilty." Van Zwieten spoke
slowly, looking at Brenda the while. "I found the pistol with which
the murder was committed. It has a name on the butt. And the
name is that of Harold Burton!"

The girl grew deathly pale and clasped her hands. "I do not believe
it," she said bravely.

"Well," drawled Van Zwieten, throwing himself back, "I can prove it
by showing you the pistol--it is at my rooms in Duke Street. If you
choose to come there--with your father, of course--you can see it.
Yes, you may look and look; but your husband and no other killed
Malet."

"It is false. There was no reason why Harold should kill Mr. Malet."

"Oh, pardon me, I think he had a very good reason," corrected Van
Zwieten, blandly; "at least Captain Burton thought it a sufficient
reason when I told him what I knew at Chippingholt."

"Ah!" flashed out Mrs. Burton, "so this was what you told Harold to
make him leave without saying good-bye to me!"

"It was. I showed him the pistol, and he admitted that it was his----"
"But not that he had used it!"

"You are very sharp, Mrs. Burton; but that is just what he did
confess."

"I don't believe it!" cried the girl.

"Nor I," joined in Mr. Scarse. "You are speaking falsely."

Van Zwieten shrugged his mighty shoulders. "As you please," said
he. "If I show it to the lawyers you may find that what I say is true.
If it was not true how could I have made Harold Burton leave
Chippingholt? Why did he keep his marriage with you a secret?
Because he feared what I had to say about him. I had decided not
to betray him if he left the lady to me. As it is, I shall speak."

"As you choose!" said Brenda. "You can prove no motive for such a
crime. Harold left Chippingholt because you told him that Mr. Malet
had gambled away his twenty thousand pounds, and the poor dear
did not want to tell me of his loss."

"Oh, yes, I told him that also. I knew more of Malet's private affairs
than you think. But Burton did not know the money was lost at the
time he murdered Malet. He murdered him to get it."

"You speak very confidently," returned Brenda, ironically. "You will

now of course put the matter into the hands of the police."

"Well, no; I shall not do that just now. However, as I see you do not
believe me, I should like to give you an opportunity of changing your
mind. Come with your father to my rooms in St. James's to-morrow
and I will show you the revolver."

"I dare say you have the weapon," put in Mr. Scarse; "but how do
we know where you found it?"
"I can prove that. Come to-morrow and convince yourselves. Then I
will make my terms."

"Your terms?"

"Yes. My silence must be bought--but not with money. You, Mrs.

Burton, must give me your promise to marry me when you become
a widow."

"I am not a widow yet," said Brenda, trying hard to keep up her
courage, "and, please God, I shall never be!"

"Amen!" sneered Van Zwieten, as the train slowed down, "we shall
see. But I hold the winning card, and I intend to play it for my own
benefit. Here we are, so I will leave you now. To-morrow at three I
shall be at my rooms. If you do not come I will see the police about
the matter."

"Very good," said Brenda, much to her father's surprise. "I will be
there."

"Come now, you are sensible!" sneered Van Zwieten, "I shall make
something out of you yet, Mrs. Burton."

"Get out!" shouted Mr. Scarse, fiercely, "or I'll throw you out!"

"Ah, bad temper, Scarse. Keep that for those who are fighting our
Republics. Au revoir until to-morrow," and Van Zwieten, jumping
lightly out of the compartment, made for a smoking-carriage.

"Why did you agree to meet the blackguard?" fumed Mr. Scarse
when the train was moving off again. "You know he is lying!"

"No, I don't think he is."

"What? do you believe your husband guilty?"

"I wouldn't believe it if an angel from heaven told me so!" flashed
out Mrs. Harold Burton. "But Van Zwieten has this revolver with
Harold's name on it or he would not dare to speak so confidently. I
will find out where he got it. He might have stolen it from Harold, or
he might have had the name put on the silver plate. Harold is not
here to contradict him. To-morrow we will take Wilfred with us. He
will know if the revolver is Harold's or not. In the meantime I will see
Lady Jenny. Harold told me to go to her if Mr. van Zwieten made
himself disagreeable. The time seems to have come."

"But what can she do?"

"I don't know; but that is what I must find out. We will baffle this
man yet. Oh, father, and to think that you once wanted me to marry
him!"

"I was wrong, my dear, very wrong," Mr. Scarse said penitently; "but
at any rate you are married now to the man of your choice."

"Harold, my darling!" Brenda's tears burst out afresh. "God knows if

I shall ever see him again!" She wept bitterly. Truly, poor Brenda was
hard beset.

Meantime Van Zwieten was swearing at his own stupidity in not

having kept a sharper eye on Harold. But he had not expected the
young man--whom he had regarded as his victim--to display such
daring.

At Chippingholt he had warned him that if he married Brenda he

would denounce him. Well, he had married Brenda, and was now
well beyond reach on his way to Africa. More than ever was Van
Zwieten determined that he should pay for what he had done. He
had but exchanged the gallows in England for a Boer bullet in South
Africa. Then, when he was no more, his widow should become Mrs.
van Zwieten. That he swore should be. He had failed once, he would
not fail again. From Waterloo he went to Westminster, to get the
revolver and take it to his rooms, that he might have it ready for
production on the morrow.

On arrival there he was met by Mrs. Hicks. She was in the greatest
distress. "Oh, sir!" she cried, "a policeman's been here, and has
taken a box from your room--an iron box!"

For the moment Van Zwieten stood stunned. Then he rushed

upstairs and looked on the top of the press. The box was gone!

CHAPTER XVII.

CHECKMATED.

Strong man as he was, Van Zwieten reeled half-fainting against the

wall. It was true--the box was gone! In a flash he realized his peril.
For that box held little that was not of a highly compromising nature.
Once its contents were seen by the authorities--as it would seem
they must be--he would be arrested as a spy, imprisoned, perhaps
hanged. No ingenuity or lying on his part could explain away the
damning evidence of the papers. They spoke for themselves.

What a fool he had been not to have forwarded them to Leyds in the
morning as he had intended to do. Now it was too late, and nothing
remained but to fly to Pretoria and to throw in his lot openly with his
employers. Useless now to think of going out as correspondent to an
English newspaper, even were he able to manage his escape from
London. Those in command at the front would surely be advised of
his true character by the home authorities; and not only that, but he
would be unmasked in a country under military law, where a spy
such as he would receive but short shrift. Fly he must, and that at
once. He must get to the Continent, and take ship for Delagoa Bay.
The game was up in England; there remained now only the
Transvaal.

After the first emotion of terror had passed, Van Zwieten collected
his wits and set to work to find some way out of the difficulty. Had
he been in Russia or France he would have given himself up to
despair, for there the authorities were lynx-eyed and relentless. But
here in England he was amongst a people so firmly wedded to their
old-fashioned laws as to freedom and justice that they might fail to
take the strong measures which the situation, so far as they were
concerned, demanded. He would baffle these pig-headed islanders
yet, and, with a courage born of despair, he set himself to the
accomplishment of this design.

Mrs. Hicks, pale and tearful, had followed him into the room and had
been witness of his despair. The poor woman was too much agitated
to speak. This unexpected invasion of her quiet house by the police
had been altogether too much for her. Van Zwieten made her sit
down, and proceeded to question her. With many tears and
lamentations that she had no husband to protect her, she gave him
all the necessary details, and he listened with feverish anxiety to
every word.

"It was about midday, Mr. Jones," said Mrs. Hicks; "yes, I will not
deceive you, sir, the clock was just on twelve when I heard a ring at
the door. I left Mary Anne in the kitchen and went to see who it was.
There was a hansom at the door, sir, and standing on the mat there
was a policeman and a lady."

"A lady?" put in Van Zwieten, looking rather puzzled, for he could not
guess what woman could have interfered with his affairs. He had
always kept himself clear of the sex. "What lady?"
"I don't rightly know her name, Mr. Jones, for, to be plain with you,
she never gave it to me. She was a short lady, sir, with black hair
and eyes--as black as your hat, sir."

"Dressed in mourning?" asked the Dutchman, with a sudden flash of

intuition.

"As you say, sir--dressed in mourning, and beautifully made it was,

too. She asked if Mr. Jones lived here, and if he was at home. I said
you did lodge with me, sir, having no reason to hide it, but that you
were out. The lady stepped into the passage then with the
policeman."

"What was the policeman like?"

"Tall and handsome, with big black eyes and a black beard. He was
something like the gentleman who came to see you last night. I beg
pardon, did you speak, sir?"

But Van Zwieten had not spoken. He had uttered a groan rather of
relief than otherwise. The thing was not so bad after all. In the lady
he recognized the wife of Mr. Malet, though why she should have
come to raid his rooms was more than he could understand. The
policeman he had no difficulty in recognizing as Wilfred Burton in a
new disguise. Without doubt it was he who had brought Lady Jenny
Malet to the Westminster rooms. And Wilfred knew, too, of the
existence of the box with its compromising contents, of which Van
Zwieten himself had been foolish enough to tell him on the previous
night, out of a sheer spirit of bravado--bravado which he bitterly
regretted when it was too late. He swore now in his beard, at his
own folly, and at Wilfred's daring.

However, now that he could feel tolerably sure that the authorities
had nothing to do with the seizure of his papers, he felt more at
ease. After all, these private enemies might be baffled, but of this he
was not so sure as he had been. The several checks which had
recently happened to him had made him feel less sure of himself.
"Well, Mrs. Hicks," he said, rousing himself from his meditations,
"and what did these people do?"

Mrs. Hicks threw her apron over her head and moaned. "Oh, sir!"
she said, in muffled tones, which came from under her apron, "they
told me that you were a dangerous man, and that the Government
had sent the policeman to search your rooms. The lady said she
knew you well, and did not want to make a public scandal, so she
had brought the policeman to do it quietly. She asked me for the
key, and said if I did not give it up she would bring in a dozen more
policemen--and that would have ruined me, sir!"

"And you believed her?" cried Van Zwieten, cursing her for a fool.

Mrs. Hicks whipped the apron off her head and looked at her lodger
in wide-eyed amazement. "Of course I did," she said; "I'm that
afraid of the police as never was. Many a time have I feared when I
saw poor Hicks--who is dead and gone--in the hands of the
constables for being drunk, poor lamb! I wouldn't resist the police;
would you, sir?

"Never mind," he said, seeing it was useless to argue with her. "You
let them into my rooms, I suppose?"

"As you may guess, sir, me being a law-abiding woman, though the
taxes are that heavy. Yes, sir, I took them up to your room and left
them there."

"Ach! what did you do that for?"

"I could not help myself, sir. The policeman ordered me to go away,
and it was not for me to disobey the law. I left them there for
twenty minutes, and then I came up to see what they were doing.
The policeman had gone and so had the cab, though I swear to you,
Mr. Jones, that I never heard it drive away. The lady was sitting, cool
as you like, at your desk there, writing."
"What was she writing?"

"That, sir, I don't rightly know, as she put her letter into an
envelope, and here it is."

He snatched the letter Mrs. Hicks produced from her pocket, and
said something not very complimentary to that good woman's
brains. She was indignant, and would fain have argued with him, but
he silenced her with a gesture, and hurriedly read the letter. As he
had already guessed, the writer was Lady Jenny Malet; and she
merely asked him to call at her house in Curzon Street for
explanations. So she put it, somewhat ironically perhaps, and Van
Zwieten swore once again--this time at the phrase. He put the letter
in his pocket, determined to accept the invitation, and to have it out
with this all too clever lady. Meanwhile Mrs. Hicks rose to make a
speech.

"I have to give you notice, sir," she said in her most stately tones,
"as I have not been in the habit of letting my rooms to folk as is
wanted by the police. You will be pleased to leave this day week,
which, I believe, was the agreement."

"I intend to leave this day," retorted her lodger. "I told you I was
going, and I have not seen fit to alter my decision. I will send for my
furniture this afternoon, and I will pay your account now."

"Thank you, sir. I shall be most obliged, and I think you should pay
me extra for the disgrace you have brought on my house. Oh,"
wailed Mrs. Hicks, "to think I should have lodged murderers and
forgers!"

Van Zwieten started at the word "murderer," but he recovered

himself quickly. He dismissed her with a shrug. "Go down and make
your account out," he said. "You have done mischief enough
already."
"Oh, indeed!" cried the woman, shrilly. "I do like you, sir, disgracing
my honest house, and then turning on me! I have been deceived in
you, Mr. Jones; never again will I let my lodgings to mysterious
gentlemen. And when they put you in the dock, sir, I'll come and see
you hanged!" and with this incoherent speech Mrs. Hicks tottered
out of the room.

Left alone, Van Zwieten lost no time in vain lamentation. He had

been beaten by his enemies for the present; he could only wait to
see if the tide of war would turn. It would be necessary to make
terms with Lady Jenny and Wilfred, for they now possessed the
evidences of his employment in England. But on his side he could
use his knowledge of the murder and of Harold's connection with it--
as witness the revolver--to keep them quiet. If they could bite, so
could he.

Meanwhile he gathered together his personal belongings and packed

them; he left the drawers of his desk empty, and he put the clothes
of Mr. Jones into a large trunk. By the time Mrs. Hicks arrived with
her bill he was quite ready. Nor had he left any evidence which
would identify Mr. Jones of Westminster with Mr. van Zwieten of St.
James's. Beaten he might be, but he would retreat in good order.

"This is my bill, sir," said Mrs. Hicks. "I have charged nothing for the
disgrace to my house!"

"Just as well," retorted he. "You would gain nothing by that. There is
the money--in cash. I suppose you would prefer it to my check."

"Well, sir," said Mrs. Hicks, softened somewhat by the gold, "you
have always paid up like a gentleman, I will say, and I hope they
won't hang you!"

"Thank you," said Van Zwieten, drily, as he fastened his glove; "that
is very kind of you. I will see after my furniture this afternoon. Is
there a cab at the door? All right. Send the man up for my luggage.
And, Mrs. Hicks"--he turned on her, as Mrs. Hicks described it
afterward, like a tiger--"it will be as well for you to hold your tongue
about this business. By the way, how did you know the policeman
took away my box?"

"Mary Anne was watching on the stairs, sir, and she saw the
policeman come down with it," said the landlady, with dignity. "Oh, I
won't say anything, sir, you may be sure. I only want to keep away
from the law. I hope you'll be as lucky!" and Mrs. Hicks bowed her
suspicious guest out of the house. She was immensely relieved when
she saw his cab drive round the corner.

In another ten minutes Mr. Jones was transformed into Mr. van
Zwieten, and was established in his rooms in Duke Street, St.
James's. But he had no intention of staying there long. The place
was evidently too hot to hold him, or would be unless he could
threaten and bully Lady Jenny and Wilfred into surrender of that
precious box. In any event, his great desire was to go south. His
work in England was done, and well done. Even Leyds
acknowledged that. But for Van Zwieten's report of the rusty
condition of the British army; the out-of-date ordnance; the little
way these islanders had of putting incompetent men in office, to be
rendered still more incompetent by an antiquated system of red-
tapeism; and the inconceivable folly practiced of allowing the civil
power to override the opinion of military experts; but for all these
things the Republics--well armed though they were--would not have
declared war. The world was amazed at their daring. But their two
Presidents knew what they were about, and so did Leyds. His
business it was to spread reports which would gain the sympathy of
the Continental Powers; that of the burghers to hurl themselves on
the British, all unprepared as they were through the folly of the
peace party. Now that the glove had been thrown down, Van
Zwieten was all eagerness to get to the front. How useful he could
be to his adopted country at this juncture! But were he in the British
camp as war correspondent to an English newspaper, his usefulness
would be trebled. And now it seemed as though his enemies were to
upset all these plans by this one coup!
However, there was nothing for it now but to face them bravely and
learn the worst. Then he could take what steps were possible to
frustrate them.

Meanwhile Brenda was pouring out her troubles to Lady Jenny Malet
and telling her all about Van Zwieten and his threats. She had gone
there full of anxiety to enlist the little widow's sympathies, and of
indignation at the charge made by the Dutchman against Harold.
Having made herself as clear as she knew how, and having related
all the facts, she waited with some impatience for Lady Jenny's
opinion, which was not immediately forthcoming. Indeed, it was
some time before she spoke.

The drawing-room was both tastefully and extravagantly furnished.

Lady Jenny might be a spendthrift, but she was also an artist, and
alas! her period of splendor was drawing to a close. Already
Chippingholt Manor had been sold to gratify the greedy creditors of
its late owner. The house in Curzon Street was her own property
under her marriage settlement, and this with ten thousand pounds
from the insurance office was all she had in the world. So by the
advice of her lawyer she had invested the money and let the house
furnished. Now she was going abroad to practice economy in some
continental town. All her plans were made; and this was the last
week of her prosperity. She only lingered in England at the express
request of Wilfred, who had made her promise to help him all she
could to trap Van Zwieten. Brenda had come on the same errand;
and now Lady Jenny sat and pondered how much she could tell her
about the man.

"Do speak to me," said Brenda. "I am so afraid for Harold."

"You need not be," replied the widow, and her visitor noticed how
worried and haggard she looked. "He is perfectly safe, I assure you.
Van Zwieten shall not harm him!"

"But he accuses him of committing the murder!"

"So you said. But that doesn't matter. Whoever killed poor Gilbert it
was not Harold Burton."

"Tell me how Harold's revolver came to be found on the spot?"

"I have an idea, but I cannot tell you--at all events, not just yet.
Wait till I have seen Van Zwieten."

"Are you going to see him?"

"I think so--to-night, about nine o'clock. At least I left a note at his
rooms which I think will bring him. I can only say that if he is a wise
man he will come. Then I will settle him once and for all as far as
Harold is concerned."

"Lady Jenny, tell me who do you think killed your husband?"

She looked at the girl sharply. "Did your father ever tell you he had a
brother?" she asked.

"Yes, he told me all about it; and how your wicked husband ran
away with his wife! I beg your pardon, I should not speak so of Mr.
Malet."

"You need not apologize," the widow said bitterly, "Gilbert deserves
all the names you could have called him. He was a bad man; and
even though he is dead, and though he was punished by a violent
death, I have not forgiven him."

"Oh, don't say that; it is wrong!"

"I know it is, but I can't help it. I have southern blood in my veins,
and I never forgive. I am glad your father told you the truth--it saves
me from having to repeat a very painful story. That poor uncle of
yours told me all about it, and how Gilbert had deceived and ill-
treated his wife. I asked my husband, and he denied the story; but I
saw the woman myself and made certain it was true. Then I hated
Gilbert. Not for that only--there were other things. Before he married
me, and after, he deceived me. I could have taken his punishment
into my own hands, but I felt sure that Heaven would check his
wicked career. But to go on with my story. That night I got a note
from your uncle telling me that his wife was dead. I saw Gilbert in
the library and showed him the letter. It was just before he went
out. I reminded him that the man--and a madman at that--was
hanging about the place. The boy who brought the letter had told
me so, and I warned him against going out. He laughed at me, and
was most insulting. Then he went, and I never saw him again until
his body was brought in. I knew then that the vengeance of Heaven
had fallen!"

Brenda looked at her with a white face. "What do you mean?" she
asked in a whisper.

"Child, can you not guess? It was Robert who had killed him!"

"Impossible!" cried Brenda. "My father found my uncle and took him
home with him. At the time of the murder Uncle Robert was in our
cottage."

"Is this true?" said the widow, and a bright color came into her face.
"Then who was the man talking to Gilbert in the library? There was
some one with him just before nine o'clock. I was going to the
Rectory to meet Harold about your business, and I went to the
library to see if Gilbert had come back. I was afraid of Robert Scarse
and of what he might do, half crazed as he was by his wife's death.
Little as I loved my husband, I did not want that to happen. The
door of the room was locked, but I heard voices. I went out without
thinking any more about it. Oh, I swear to you, Brenda, that I have
always believed it was your uncle who killed him! Who was it then?
The revolver!--ah! and Van Zwieten has it!" She jumped up and
clasped her hands. "I see! I know! I know!"

"What?" asked the girl, rising in alarm.

"Never mind--never mind. I will tell you soon. Go now, Brenda, and
leave me to see Van Zwieten. Oh, I know how to manage him now!"

"Is it him you mean?

"He is worse than a murderer," Lady Jenny cried. "He is a spy!"

"I was sure of it. But how do you know?"

"I know; and I can't tell you how. As to the murder, he has to do
with that too. I believe he did it himself."

"But how do you know?" repeated Brenda. "How do you know?"

"No matter. I am sure he fired that shot, and I can prove it."

"Prove it, and hang him!" cried Brenda, and there was bitter hatred
in her voice.

The little widow sat down again, and the fire died out of her eyes.
"No, I cannot hang him, even though he is guilty. There are things--
oh, I can't tell you. The man must go unpunished for the sake of--go
away, child, and leave it all to me."

"But I want to know the truth--I must save Harold!"

"I will save Harold. He is safe from Van Zwieten. As to the truth, you
shall know it when once he is out of the country."

Brenda had to be satisfied with this, for her friend absolutely refused
to tell her any more. But she left feeling that her husband was safe
from the intrigues of the Dutchman, and that was all she cared
about.

Left alone, Lady Jenny clenched her hands.

"If I could only hang him!" she muttered. "But that is impossible!"
 CHAPTER XVIII.

EXIT VAN ZWIETEN.

As Lady Jenny had expected, Mr. van Zwieten proved himself to be a

wise man by presenting himself in her drawing-room at the
appointed hour. He was in evening dress, calm and composed as
usual, and greeted her with a low bow. She could not help admiring
his self-possession. His reputation, his liberty even, was at stake,
and yet he never turned a hair. And with these feelings uppermost,
she received him more kindly, perhaps, than she would otherwise
have done. The Dutchman, taking his cue from her, that the
conversation, despite its probable sensational character, was not to
be conducted on melodramatic lines, reciprocated her politeness.
Any one seeing the pair might have imagined that they were
discussing nothing of more importance than "Shakespeare and the
musical glasses," rather than a subject which, to one of them, at
least, meant life or death.

The hostess, in a black silk dinner dress, with a few well-chosen

jewels, looked unusually pretty in the light of the lamps, and Van
Zwieten was an admirer of pretty women, and knew well how to
make himself agreeable to them. Had the subject-matter of their
conversation been only less serious, he would have enjoyed himself.
As it was, he did not find the hour he spent with her irksome. For a
few moments the two antagonists discussed general topics, and then
Lady Jenny came suddenly to the point. The man watched her
warily. Pretty she might be, but that was no reason why he should
allow her to get the better of him. It was a duel of words, and the
combatants were well matched.

"Well, Mr. van Zwieten," began the widow, "I suppose you were
somewhat astonished at my invitation."

"I cannot deny that I was, my dear lady. It is, perhaps, a trifle
disconcerting to find one's rooms robbed, and then to receive an
invitation from the robber!"

"Oh, come, that is rather harsh, is it not? It was what I should call
simple justice."

"Indeed!" replied the other, dryly. "It would interest me to learn how
you make that out."

"Oh, easily. I can give you two reasons. In the first place, you
threatened--did you not?--to accuse a man of a crime which you
knew he had not committed. In the second, you are a spy, to put it
plainly, and both Wilfred Burton and I felt it was our duty to secure
proofs of your guilt. We are not all fools in this country!"

"That is a charge one would hardly bring against you," returned Van
Zwieten, with emphasis, "nor against that young man. Had I
suspected him of so much cleverness, I should have taken more
elaborate precautions."

"Ah! you should never undervalue your enemies! Well, I suppose you
know that you are in my power?"

"And in Wilfred Burton's also!"

"No. I can manage him. He has left the decision of this matter in my
hands. I am sure you ought to be pleased at that!"

"I am. Because I see you mean to let me off."

"That depends!" she said, and shot a keen glance at him. "I asked
you to come here because it was necessary that I should see you,
sir--but I despise you none the less for that. You are a spy!--the
meanest of all created creatures."

Van Zwieten held up his hand. He was quite unmoved. "My dear
lady, let us come to business. Believe me, preaching of that kind has
very little effect on me. I might defend myself by saying that I have
every right to use craft on behalf of the Transvaal fox against the
mighty English lion, but I will content myself with holding my
tongue. I would remind you that I have very little time to spare. I
intend to leave this country to-morrow morning."

"How do you know that I shall allow you to go?"

"You would hardly have invited me to this interview else," Van

Zwieten said cunningly. "You have something you want from me.
Well, I will give it in exchange for my safety--and that includes, of
course, your silence."

"It is clever of you to put it that way," responded the widow, coolly.
"It so happens that you are right. I intend to make a bargain with
you."

"Always provided that I agree."

"Of course," said she, airily; "but in this case I really think you will
agree."

"I am not so sure of that." Van Zwieten narrowed his eyes and
blinked wickedly. "You forget that I also know something."

"For that reason I asked you here. Let me advise you not to pit
yourself against me, my good man, or you may get the worst of it. A
word from me and you would be kicking your heels in jail this very
night."
"Probably." Van Zwieten had too much to gain to notice her threat.
"But you will never say that word."

"You can't be quite sure of that yet. Well, let us get to business. I
am not anxious to spend any more time in your company than is
necessary."

"I assure you the feeling is mutual. May I ask how you found my
rooms in Westminster?"

"I think you know that very well after the visitor you received last
night. I was told about them and you by Mr. Wilfred Burton. He
knew long ago that you were a spy, and he has been watching you
for many months."

"He is not so very clever then. All these months--and yet he has got
no further than this!"

"How much further do you want him to go? He has the box with all
your papers--your treasonable papers--your orders from Dr. Leyds.
Really, Mr. van Zwieten, you should have taken a little more care of
that box! The top of a press was hardly a safe place to hide it. But
perhaps you had been reading Poe's story of the 'Purloined Letter.'"

"Never mind what I read," he said, evidently annoyed at her

flippancy. "Let us confine ourselves to business. The idea of the
disguised policeman was yours, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir, it was. I felt sure that the landlady would not let us enter
your room to make the search unless she was thoroughly frightened,
so I suggested that he should get himself up as a member of the
force. Our little stratagem succeeded to perfection. Mrs. Hicks--that
is her name, I believe--was terrified and let us in at once. Then we
found your box, and I sent Wilfred away with it while I stayed and
wrote my note to you. Oh, what a time we had over your papers!
You really are very clever, Mr. van Zwieten. What a lot the Foreign
Secretary would give to see what we saw and, as it happens, he is a
personal friend of mine. I might sell it, you know," she went on
coolly. "I am poor enough now, and they would give me a good
price."

"Not such a price as would recompense you for what I could say
about your husband," retorted the Dutchman.

She laughed gaily. "Oh, that? My good man, I know all about that!
Do you think I should have taken the trouble to talk to you if I had
not known that my husband had been doing all your dirty work?"

"Yes, he did my work," Van Zwieten said viciously. "He was my

creature--paid by me with Transvaal gold. You call me a spy, Lady
Jane Malet. Your own husband was one--and not only a spy, but a
traitor!"

"I know it," she said, and her face was very pale, "and for that
reason I am glad he is dead, terrible though his end was."

"I dare say you helped him out of the world!" sneered Van Zwieten.

"That is false, and you know it. I had no idea of what my husband
was until I found his papers after his death. Had I known that when
he was yet alive, I might have killed him!" She clenched her hand.
"Yes, I might have shot him, the mean, cowardly hound! He spoke
against the Boers, and yet he took their money!"

"Oh, you must not blame him for that. That was my idea."

"It is worthy of you. Oh!"--she started up and paced the room in a

fury--"to think that I should have been married to such a creature!
To think that I should have lived on gold paid for the betrayal of my
country! The cur! The Judas! Thank God he is dead." And then,
turning abruptly on the Dutchman, "How did you gain him over to
your side?" she asked. "Gilbert was a man once--a man and a
gentleman. How did you contrive to make him a--a--thing?"
"Easily enough," he said placidly. He could not understand why she
made all this fuss. "Two years ago I met him at Monte Carlo. I
watched him gamble and lose. I heard he was in the War Office, or
had some connection with it, so I made his acquaintance and
induced him to play still higher. We became intimate enough to
discuss money matters--his, of course--and he told me that he was
very hard up. He blamed you."

"I dare say," returned Lady Jenny, coldly. "Go on."

"Well, I put the matter to him delicately. I asked him to find out
certain details connected with your military organization, and I told
him he would be well paid for the information. I am bound to say he
kicked at first, but I went on tempting him with bigger sums; and he
was so desperately hard up that he closed with me in the end. He
soon did all I wanted, and, once in my power, I trained him to be
most useful, but I kept on paying him well--oh, yes, I paid him very
well."

He made this villainous confession in so cool a tone that Lady Jenny

could have struck him. It was horrible to think that she had been the
wife of so degraded a creature as Van Zwieten now described her
husband to have been, and, "Thank God he is dead!" she cried
again. "It would have been worse for both of us if I had known it
while he was alive. It might have been I, then, who would have fired
the shot. But after all, I suppose it was better that he should fall by
your hand!"

The Dutchman started from his seat. "I am a spy, Lady Jenny," he
cried, "but I am not a murderer. I leave that sort of thing to you!"

"To me? Do you accuse me of the murder of my husband?"

"I do. Captain Burton, while staying at your house at Chippingholt,

left his revolvers behind. You found them; you took one and stole
out after your husband and shot him. I found the weapon. Do you
take me for a fool? Where were you when you pretended to go to
the Rectory?--out in the orchards tracking your husband! You killed
him because he was in love with Mrs. Scarse. Deny it if you can!"

"I do deny it. It was all over between him and Mrs. Scarse before he
married me. He cared so little for the poor woman that he did not go
to her when she was dying. That madman, her husband, came down
to tell Gilbert of her death. They met and had a struggle. I thought it
was he who had killed him; and indeed, if he had, I should not have
blamed him. As it was, you were the man--you, who wanted to get
rid of your tool!"

Van Zwieten threw himself back in his chair with a laugh. "You talk
nonsense," he said roughly. "Why should I want to get rid of a man
who was useful to me? No one was more sorry than I when poor
Malet died. Not from any sentimental point of view--oh, dear no!--
but because he had become quite a necessary person to me. I found
the revolver in the grass, but it was not I who had used it. If I had,"
he added cynically, "I should have no hesitation in telling you."

"You did murder him!" insisted Lady Jenny, fiercely. "I know where
you found the revolver--not, as you say, on the grass--no! it was in
the library on the night of the murder. Gilbert had been shooting at a
mark in the afternoon; and at night--at nine o'clock--I heard voices
in the library. It was you who were with him; you, who came to take
away treasonable papers from my unhappy husband. You got what
you wanted, and you got the weapon, and he went back with you to
Mr. Scarse's cottage. You wanted to get rid of him without danger to
yourself; you tried to lay the guilt on Harold Burton to rid yourself of
a rival! You shot Gilbert in the orchards, and you threw away the
revolver to implicate Harold and walked back to the cottage; you--
you murderer!--you Cain!"

She stopped, half choked by her emotions. Van Zwieten seized the
opportunity to deny once again the truth of her accusation.

"I tell you I did not kill Malet!"

"Then who did?"

"I don't know. I thought it was Captain Burton; upon my soul I did!"

"Have you a soul?" Lady Jenny asked with scorn. "I should doubt it.
However, I stick to my opinion--I believe that you killed my husband.
Oh, you need not look alarmed, I am not going to give you up. I
have done all I wanted--I have married Harold to Brenda by telling
him I could keep you from accusing him of the murder!"

"And can you?" sneered Van Zwieten. He was fighting every inch.

"I am sure I can. I have your box, remember. For my husband's sake
I spare you now. I don't want an honorable name to be smirched
through him. I don't want to be pointed at as the widow of a spy
and a traitor, otherwise I would denounce you as the spy and the
murderer I truly believe you to be. This is my bargain, Mr. van
Zwieten. You leave England at once, cease to persecute Captain
Burton and his wife and I will hold my tongue."

"And if I refuse?" he asked sullenly.

"If you refuse I will have you arrested as you leave this house. You
think I can't do that, but I can. I have made all my preparations. I
have left nothing to chance. One does not leave things to chance in
dealing with a man like you, Mr. van Zwieten," she sneered. "Wilfred
Burton is outside with a couple of policemen. I have only to whistle
and they will come up."

But Van Zwieten was not so easily bluffed. "On what grounds, may I
ask?" he said. "If you wanted to keep this matter quiet for the sake
of your husband, you would not have told the police."

"I have told them nothing about your spying business," she said
calmly. "You will be arrested on a charge of being concerned in the
murder of my husband, and I can assure you that if you are so
arrested I will press the charge. On the other hand, if you agree to