d not speak. She seemed
in doubt.

Estabrook hesitated a moment with his hand reaching behind him for my
sleeve. He pulled at it twice, without turning.

"Is she safe?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, in every way. The Lord wouldn't allow the contrary to happen,"
said I. "If she should need me later, call me. I shall be downstairs."

I stepped back then as softly as a cat. I shut the door after me with
the greatest pains. In the reception room below I looked about for the
letter I had laid on my chair. It was gone!

I called Margaret softly. I searched cautiously through the halls,
whispering her name. She was nowhere. At last I brushed against a
hanging which, being withdrawn, disclosed the message itself on the
floor. Its sheets were crumpled together, so that it was evident that
some one else had read it. I suppose that the old servant had done so.
If her curiosity was pardonable, so was my theft. I folded the paper and
thrust it in my pocket as I sat down to wait.

The minutes went by and many of them had gone before I heard some one in
the back part of the house, descending the stairs. The breath of this
person was labored like the breath of one who carries a heavy handbag. A
little later I heard a door creak and a latch click below. Then all was
still.

The house was terribly still. The stillness beat as before, like a thing
with feathery wings. The distant clock tick came and went between these
flurries of silence. I looked at my watch. An hour had gone. It was
growing dark. My patient chauffeur had lit his lights. Passers-by came
and went, in and out of their white glare. I had smoked two cigars.

[Illustration: SHE DID NOT SPEAK. SHE SEEMED IN DOUBT]

Finally a pair of feet ran up the front steps. The bell rang. There
was no movement in the house. It rang again. The feet on the steps
stamped impatiently. Again the bell buzzed. The sound came from some
unexplored region of the house, but the little thing made a shocking
hubbub in that desert of silence.

After this last vehement assault by the newcomer I heard a door open
above. A man, burning one match after another to light his way, came
down the stairs. When he had reached the bottom, I saw that it was
Estabrook. His face was illuminated by the little flame, but a
hundredfold more by an expression of happiness, the equal of which I
have never seen.

"Great Scott, Doctor," he cried in sincere surprise. "I forgot you were
here!"

"Come! Come!" sai