e doctor had promised to look in before
nine--there was nothing more that they could do for the present, they
said--and Mrs. Partington was out at this moment to fetch something from
the dispensary.

He had heard her story during one of the intervals in the course of the
night, and it seemed to him that he had a tolerably accurate theory of
the whole affair--if, that is to say, her interpretation of the noises
she had heard was at all correct.

The Major must have made an unexpected attack, probably by a kick that
had temporarily disabled Frank, and must then, with Mr. Partington's
judicial though amused approval, have proceeded to inflict chastisement
upon Frank as he lay on the floor. This must have gone on for a
considerable time; Frank seemed to have been heavily kicked all over his
body. And the thing must have ended with a sudden uncontrolled attack on
the part of the Major, not only with his boots, but with at least one of
the heavy bottles. The young man's head was cut deeply, as if by glass,
and it was probably three or four kicks on the head, before Mr.
Partington could interfere, that had concluded the punishment. The
doctor's evidence entirely corroborated this interpretation of events.
It was, of course, impossible to know whether Frank had had the time or
the will to make any resistance. The police had been communicated with,
but there was no news yet of the two men involved.

* * * * *

It was one of those bleak, uncomfortable dawns that have no beauty
either of warmth or serenity--at least it seemed so here in Turner Road.
Above the torn and dingy strip of lace that shrouded the lower part of
the window towered the black fronts of the high houses against the
steely western sky. It was extraordinarily quiet. Now and then a
footstep echoed and died suddenly as some passer-by crossed the end of
the street; but there was no murmur of voices yet, or groups at the
doors, as, no doubt, there would be when the news became known.

The room, too, was cheerless; the fire was long ago gone out; the
children's bed was still tumbled and disordered, and the paraffin lamp
had smoked itself out half an hour ago. Overhead the clergyman could
hear now and again a very gentle footstep, and that was all.

He was worn out with excitement and a kind of terror; and events took
for him the same kind of clear, hard outline as did the physical objects
themselves in this cold light of dawn. He h