heard Painter call out," he declared, and hastily sought
the parlor, followed by Hope.

The room was empty, but the screen before the broken window had been
thrown down, and they could see Painter's bulky form immediately
outside.

"What the deuce is the matter?" demanded Random, entering. "Did you call
out, Painter. I fancied I heard something."

The constable came in again.

"I did call out, sir," he confessed. "I was half asleep in that chair,
when I suddenly became wide awake, and believed I saw a face looking at
me round the corner of the screen. I jumped up, calling for you, sir,
and upset the screen."

"Well? well?" demanded Sir Frank impatiently, and seeing that the man
hesitated.

"I saw no one, sir. All the same, I had an idea, and I have still, that
a man came through the window and peered at me from behind the screen."

"The man who attacked Mrs. Jasher?"

"I can't say, sir. But there was someone. At any rate he's gone again,
if he really did come, and there is no chance of finding him. It's like
pea-soup outside."

Hope and Random simultaneously stepped through the window, but could not
see an inch before them, so thick was the sea-fog and so dense was the
darkness. Returning, they replaced the screen, and, telling Painter
to be more on the alert, went back shivering to the fire in the
dining-room. When they were seated again, Archie put a question.

"Do you think that policeman was dreaming?" he asked meditatively.

"No," replied Random sharply. "I believe that the man who assaulted Mrs.
Jasher is hanging about, and ventured back into the room, relying on the
fog as a means of escape, should he be spotted."

"But the man wouldn't be such a fool as to return into danger."

"Not unless he wanted something very badly," said Random significantly.

Hope let the cigarette he was lighting fall.

"What do you mean?"

"I may be wrong, of course. But it is my impression that there is
something in the parlor which this man wants, and for which he tried
to murder Mrs. Jasher. We interrupted him, and he was forced to flee.
Hidden in the fog, he is lurking about to see if he can't obtain what he
has risked his neck to secure."

"What can it be?" murmured Archie, struck by the feasibility of this
theory.

"Perhaps the second emerald," remarked Sir Frank grimly.

"What! You don't think that--"

"I don't think anything. I am too tired to think at all. However,
Painter will keep his eyes open, and