ath again after the
shaking; "but go for the police. My mistress is being murdered."

"Mr. Hope is looking after that, and the screams have ceased. Who was
with your mistress?"

"I don't know, sir," sobbed the servant. "I didn't know anyone had
called, and then I heard the screaming. I looked into the parlor to see
what was the matter, but the lamp had been thrown over and had gone
out, and there was a dreadful struggle going on in the darkness, so I
screamed and ran out and then I--oh--oh" Jane showed symptoms of renewed
hysteria, and clutched Random tightly, as a man came cautiously round
the corner.

"Are you there, Random?" asked Hope's voice.

"It's so infernally dark and foggy that I have missed him."

"Missed who?"

"The man who was trying to murder Mrs. Jasher, He got her down when I
entered and struck a match. Then he dashed through the window before I
could catch him or even recognize him. He's vanished in the mist."

"It's no use looking for him anyhow," said Random, peering into the
dense blackness, which was thick with damp. "We had better see after
Mrs. Jasher."

"Whom have you got there?"

"Jane--who seems to have lost her head."

"It's a mercy I haven't lost my life, sir, with burglars and murderers
all about the place," sobbed the girl, dropping on to the veranda.

Random promptly hauled her to her feet.

"Go and get a candle, and keep calm if you can," he said in an abrupt
military voice. "This is no time to play the fool."

His sharpness had great effect on the girl, and she became much more her
usual self. Hope lighted another match, and the trio proceeded through
the passage towards the kitchen, where Jane had left a lamp burning.
Seizing this from its bracket, Sir Frank retraced his way along the
passage to the pink parlor, followed closely by Hope and timorously
by Jane. A dreadful scene presented itself. The dainty little room
was literally smashed to pieces, as though a gigantic bull had been
wallowing therein. The lamp lay on the floor, surrounded by several
extinguished candles. It was a mercy that all the lights had been put
out when overturned, else the gim-crack cottage would have been long
since in a blaze. Chairs and tables and screens were also overturned,
and the one window had its rose-hued curtains torn down and its glass
broken, showing only too clearly the way in which the murderer had
escaped. And that the man who had attacked Mrs. Jasher was a murderer
could be se