nd was
returning when he saw a dim light shine through the long glazed slits at
the sides of the principal door, and directly after he heard a click a
if a candlestick were set down on a marble slab, and one of the narrow
windows showed a human shape in a misty way.

The bull's-eye was turned on, and, after the momentary glimpse of a
face, the rattling of a chain was heard and the front-door was opened a
few inches to reveal a pale, haggard, but very handsome face, with large
lustrous eyes, which looked dilated and strange.

"I did not understand you, policeman. Is anything the matter?"

"Well, Miss, that's for you to say;" and he related what he had seen.

"It is very strange. My father's door is locked, and there is no
light."

"Yes, Miss--one over the door."

"Yes, but that only shines into the surgery. My brother has not come
back."

"But the doctor had company, Miss: that gentleman who had taken too
much."

"Oh, no; impossible."

"Then I _have_ been done!" cried the man, striking his left hand a blow
with his fist, as if to clinch the thought which had been troubling him.

"I don't understand you."

"Well, Miss, I'm afraid there's something wrong. But the doctor?"

"He is not in his room."

"But how about the speaking trumpet?"

"I heard the night-bell. He is not in his chamber, and the passage door
is locked. Perhaps--" a few moments' pause; then in a firm decided
tone, "Yes, you had better come in."

The door was closed, so that the chain could be unfastened; and as the
door was being reopened, John Whyley pulled himself together, and
cleared his throat.

"Don't be alarmed, Miss," he said, as he stood in the large blank hall,
and rubbed his shoes upon a very old mat. "I don't like scaring you but
its better to make sure than to let anything go wrong. That's partly,
you see, Miss, what we're for."

"Yes, yes, but come at once to the surgery."

"One minute, Miss," said the constable, examining carefully the handsome
frightened face, and noting that its owner was tall, graceful, rather
dark, and about three or four and twenty, while though her hair was in
disorder as if from lying down, the lady was fully dressed.

"What do you want?" she said, with the wild look in her eyes
intensifying.

"To do everything in order, Miss. First, who lives here?"

"My father, Dr Chartley."

"Who else on the premises?"

"The servant-girl. Our boy. My brother, a medical student, lives here,
b