iercely. "There must be some
explanation of it. I know I'm sane."

"What was it exactly?" I asked quietly. "Nothing on God's earth will
persuade me that you are mad, sir."

"Thank you, my boy. I'll tell you what happened to me. You won't be
able to explain it, but you shall hear just what it was. You may think
it's silly of me to get nervous of what sounds like an absurdity, but
you see it happened where--where to-day's tragedy happened."

"What Myra calls the Chemist's Rock?" I asked, by this time intensely
interested.

"At the Chemist's Rock," he replied. "It was a lovely afternoon, just
such an afternoon as to-day. I had been going to fish with girlie, but
I was a little tired, and--er--I had some letters to write, so I said
I would meet her later in the afternoon. It was agreed we should meet
at the Chemist's Rock at half-past four. I left the house about a
quarter-past, and strolled down the river to the Fank Pool, crossed
the stream in the boat that lies there, and walked up the opposite
bank past Dead Man's Pool towards the Chemist's Rock. I mention all
this to show you that I was feeling well enough to enjoy a stroll, and
a very rocky stroll at that, because, if I hadn't been feeling
perfectly fit, I should have gone up the back way past the stable, the
way you came back this afternoon. So you see, I was undoubtedly quite
well, my boy. However, to get on with the tale. As soon as I came in
sight of our meeting-place I looked up to see if girlie had got there
before me. She was not there. I looked further up stream, and saw
Sholto come tearing down over the rocks. I knew that he had seen me,
and that she was following him. I naturally strolled on to go to the
rock--I say I went----" He broke off, and passed his hands across his
eyes.

"Yes," I said softly; "you went to the rock, and Myra met you----"

"No," he said; "I didn't. I didn't go to the rock."

"But I don't understand," I said, as he remained silent for some
moments. The old man leaned forward, and laid a trembling,
fever-scorched hand on mine.

"Ronald," he said, in a voice that shook with genuine horror, and sent
a cold shiver down my spine, "I did not go to the rock. _The rock came
to me._"

CHAPTER V

IS MORE MYSTERIOUS.

I sat and stared at the old man in astonishment. Obviously he was
fully convinced that he was giving me an accurate account of what
had happened, and equally obviously he was perfectly sane.

"That is all,"