She took it with a sudden hysterical sob, which seemed to ring out like a strange note upon the unnatural stillness of the room.  And then there came a thing which happened before its time.  The door was opened.  Inspector Jacks came in.  With him were Dr. Spencer Whiles and the man who a few days ago had been discharged from St. Thomas’ Hospital.  Of the very distinguished company who were gathered there, Inspector Jacks took little notice.  His eyes lit upon the form of the Prince, and he drew a sigh of relief.  The door was closed behind him, and he saw no way by which he could be cheated of his victory.  He took a step forward, and the Prince advanced courteously, as though to meet him.  The others, for those few seconds, seemed as though they had lost the power of speech or movement.  Then before a word could be uttered by either the Inspector or the Prince, the door was opened from the outside, and a man came running in,—­a man dressed in a shabby blue serge suit, dark and thin.  He ran past the Inspector and his companions, and he fell on his knees before his master.

“I confess!” he cried.  “It was I who climbed on to the railway car!  It was I who stabbed the American man in the tunnel and robbed him of his papers!  The others are innocent.  Marki, who brought the car for me, knew nothing.  Those who saw me return to this house knew nothing.  No man was my confidant.  I alone am guilty!  I thought they could not discover the truth, but they have hunted me down.  He is there—­the doctor who bandaged my knee.  I told him that it was a bicycle accident.  Listen!  It was I who killed the young American Vanderpole.  I followed him from the Savoy Hotel.  I dressed myself in the likeness of my master, and I entered his taxi as a pleasant jest.  Then I strangled him and I robbed him too!  He saw me—­that man!” Soto cried, pointing to the youth who stood at the Inspector’s left hand.  “He was on his bicycle.  He skidded and fell through watching me.  I told my master that I was in trouble, and he has tried to shield me, but he did not know the truth.  If he had, he would have given me over as I give myself now.  What I did I did because I love Japan and because I hate America!”

His speech ended in a fit of breathlessness.  He lay there, gasping.  The doctor bent forward, looking at him first in perplexity and afterwards in amazement.  Then very slowly, and with the remnants of doubt still in his tone, he answered Inspector Jacks’ unspoken question.

“He is the image of the man who came to me that night,” he declared.  “He is wearing the same clothes, too.”

“What do you say?” the Inspector whispered hoarsely to the youth on his other side.  “Don’t hurry.  Look at him carefully.”

The young man hesitated.

“He is the same height and figure as the man I saw enter the taxi,” he said.  “I believe that it is he.”

Inspector Jacks stepped forward, but the Prince held out his hand.