ople?" she added.

I did not reply. I was constantly puzzled and bewildered by the
actions and movements of Rayne and his questionable friends.

That evening after dinner, while old Blumenfeld played billiards with
his guest, I marked. They played three closely contested games, for
both were good players; until at eleven o'clock we all three went to
the great drawing-room to bid the ladies good night. With our host I
returned to the billiard-room, leaving Rayne to follow. Mr. Blumenfeld
poured me out a whisky-and-soda and took a glass of port himself. Then
a few minutes later he suggested, that as Rayne had not returned, he
and I should have a final game before retiring.

He had made about twenty-five when of a sudden he leaned heavily
against the table, his face blanched, and placing his hand to his
heart, exclaimed:

"Oh! I have such a pain here! I--I----"

And before I could run round to his assistance he had collapsed
heavily upon the floor.

In an instant I was at his side, but saw that he was already
unconscious.

I flew to the door and down the corridor, when luckily I encountered
Rayne, who was at that moment returning to us.

In breathless haste I told him what had occurred.

"Good heavens!" he gasped. "Don't alarm the ladies. Find the butler
and get him to telephone for the doctor in secret. I'll run in and
look after him in the meantime," he said, and hurried to the
billiard-room.

I was not long in finding the butler, and quickly we went to the
library and spoke to the doctor, who lived about five miles away. He
was already in bed, but would, he said, motor over immediately.

On our return to the billiard-room we found, to our relief, that Mr.
Blumenfeld had recovered consciousness. He was still lying upon the
floor, Rayne having forced some brandy between his lips.

"He's getting right again!" Rayne exclaimed to the white-haired old
servant, and together we lifted our host on to the sofa.

He recovered quite rapidly, and presently he whispered weakly:

"I suppose it's my heart! A doctor in Rome three years ago said it was
rather weak."

"I'm glad you're better, my dear fellow," said Rayne. "I was much
worried about you. You were playing with Hargreave, and he alarmed
me."

"I'm cold," our host said. "Will you shut that window."

For the first time I noticed the window, which had certainly been
closed when we were playing, was open about a foot. Besides, Mr.
Blumenfeld's glass of port,