I was wide-awake by that time, and it was then, I think,
that I noticed a heavy, sweetish odor in the air. At first I thought one
of the children might be ill, and that Edith was dosing him with one of
the choice concoctions that she kept in the bath-room medicine closet.
When she closed her door, however, and went back to bed, I knew I had
been mistaken.

The sweetish smell was almost nauseating. For some reason or
other--association of certain odors with certain events--I found myself
recalling the time I had a wisdom tooth taken out, and that when I came
around I was being sat on by the dentist and his assistant, and the
latter had a black eye. Then, suddenly, I knew. The sickly odor was
chloroform!

I had the light on in a moment, and was rapping at Margery's door. It
was locked, and I got no answer. A pale light shone over the transom,
but everything was ominously quiet, beyond the door. I went to Mrs.
Butler's door, next; it was unlocked and partly open. One glance at the
empty bed and the confusion of the place, and I rushed without ceremony
through the connecting door into Margery's room.

The atmosphere was reeking with chloroform. The girl was in bed,
apparently sleeping quietly. One arm was thrown up over her head, and
the other lay relaxed on the white cover. A folded towel had been laid
across her face, and when I jerked it away I saw she was breathing very
slowly, stertorously, with her eyes partly open and fixed.

I threw up all the windows, before I roused the family, and as soon as
Edith was in the room I telephoned for the doctor. I hardly remember
what I did until he came: I know we tried to rouse Margery and failed,
and I know that Fred went down-stairs and said the silver was intact and
the back kitchen door open. And then the doctor came, and I was put out
in the hall, and for an eternity, I walked up and down, eight steps one
way, eight steps back, unable to think, unable even to hope.

Not until the doctor came out to me, and said she was better, and would
I call a maid to make some strong black coffee, did I come out of my
stupor. The chance of doing something, anything, made me determine to
make the coffee myself. They still speak of that coffee at Fred's.

It was Edith who brought Mrs. Butler to my mind. Fred had maintained
that she had fled before the intruders, and was probably in some closet
or corner of the upper floor. I am afraid our solicitude was long in
coming. It was almost an