counts shall be in your hands."

"Leave the room, sir!" cried Melrose, choking with rage, and motioning
toward the door.

On the threshold Faversham turned, and gave one last look at the dark
figure of Melrose, and the medley of objects surrounding it; at Madame
Elisabeth's Sevres vases, on the upper shelf of the Riesener table; at
the Louis Seize clock, on the panelled wall, which was at that moment
striking eight.

As he closed the door behind him, he was aware of Dixon who had just
entered the gallery from the servants' quarters. The old butler hurried
toward him to ask if he should announce dinner. "Not for me," said
Faversham; "you had better ask Mr. Melrose. To-morrow, Dixon, I shall be
leaving this house--for good."

Dixon stared, his face working:

"I thowt--I heard yo'--" he said, and paused.

"You heard us disputing. Mr. Melrose and I have had a quarrel. Bring me
something to my room, when you have looked after him. I will come and
speak to you later."

Faversham walked down the gallery to his own door. He had to pass on the
way a splendid Nattier portrait of Marie Leczinska which had arrived only
that morning from Paris, and was standing on the floor, leaning sideways
against a chair, as Melrose had placed it himself, so as to get a good
light on it. The picture was large. Faversham picked his way round it. If
his thoughts had not been so entirely preoccupied, he would probably have
noticed a slight movement of something behind the portrait as he passed.
But exultation held him; he walked on air.

He returned to his own room, where the window was still wide open. As he
entered, he mechanically turned on the central light, not noticing that
the reading lamp upon his table was not in its place. But he saw that
some papers which had been on his desk when he left the room were now on
the floor. He supposed the wind which was rising had dislodged them.
Stooping to lift them up, he was surprised to see a large mud-stain on
the topmost sheet. It looked like a footprint, as though some one had
first knocked the papers off the table, and then trodden on them. He
turned on a fresh switch. There was another mark on the floor just beyond
the table--and another--nearer the door. They were certainly footprints!
But who could have entered the room during his absence? And where was the
invader? At the same time he perceived that his reading lamp had been
overturned and was lying on the floor, broken.

Filled with