I am not yet quite insane, but all
these unknown dangers around me will drive me mad. I must fight against
them.

"Thursday. They brought me back my travelling bag. My attendant is
uneasy. She was longer in cleaning up the room than usual to-day. She
seemed to want to say something to me, and yet she did not dare to
speak. Is something to happen to-day then? I did not close my eyes all
night. Can one be made insane from a distance? hypnotised into it, as
it were? I will not allow fear alone to make me mad. My enemy shall not
find it too easy. He may kill my body, but that is all--"

These were the last words which Asta Langen had written in her notebook,
the little book which was the only confidant of her terrible need. When
the detective had finished reading it, he closed his eyes for a few
minutes to let the impression made by the story sink into his mind.

Then he rose and put on his overcoat. He entered the commissioner's room
and took up his hat and cane.

"Where are you going, Muller?" asked Herr Von Mayringen.

"To Cathedral Lane, if you will permit it."

"At this hour? it is quarter past eleven! Is there any such hurry, do
you think? There is no train from any of our stations until morning. And
I have already sent a policeman to watch the house. Besides, I know that
Fellner is a highly respected man.

"There is many a man who is highly respected until he is found out,"
remarked the detective.

"And you are going to find out about Fellner?" smiled the commissioner.
"And this evening, too?"

"This very evening. If he is asleep I shall wake him up. That is the
best time to get at the truth about a man."

The commissioner sat down at his desk and wrote out the necessary
credentials for the detective. A few moments later Muller was in the
street. He left the notebook with the commissioner. It was snowing
heavily, and an icy north wind was howling through the streets. Muller
turned up the collar of his coat and walked on quickly. It was just
striking a quarter to twelve when he reached Cathedral Lane. As he
walked slowly along the moonlit side of the pavement, a man stepped out
of the shadow to meet him. It was the policeman who had been sent to
watch the house. Like Muller, he wore plain clothes.

"Well?" the latter asked.

"Nothing new. Mr. Fellner has been ill in bed several days, quite
seriously ill, they tell me. The janitor seems very fond of him.

"Hm--we'll see what sort of a man he is. You ca