ce of patients, so that it was possible for the doctor to
admit and receive a visitor there without the knowledge of anyone. As
a matter of fact, when patients came late it was quite usual for him to
let them in and out by the surgery entrance, for the maid and the
housekeeper were in the habit of retiring early.

On this particular night Martha Woods went into the doctor's study at
half-past nine, and found him writing at his desk. She bade him good
night, sent the maid to bed, and then occupied herself until a quarter
to eleven in household matters. It was striking eleven upon the hall
clock when she went to her own room. She had been there about a quarter
of an hour or twenty minutes when she heard a cry or call, which
appeared to come from within the house. She waited some time, but it
was not repeated. Much alarmed, for the sound was loud and urgent, she
put on a dressing-gown, and ran at the top of her speed to the doctor's
study.

"Who's there?" cried a voice, as she tapped at the door.

"I am here, sir--Mrs. Woods."

"I beg that you will leave me in peace. Go back to your room this
instant!" cried the voice, which was, to the best of her belief, that
of her master. The tone was so harsh and so unlike her master's usual
manner, that she was surprised and hurt.

"I thought I heard you calling, sir," she explained, but no answer was
given to her. Mrs. Woods looked at the clock as she returned to her
room, and it was then half-past eleven.

At some period between eleven and twelve (she could not be positive as
to the exact hour) a patient called upon the doctor and was unable to
get any reply from him. This late visitor was Mrs. Madding, the wife
of the village grocer, who was dangerously ill of typhoid fever. Dr.
Lana had asked her to look in the last thing and let him know how her
husband was progressing. She observed that the light was burning in
the study, but having knocked several times at the surgery door without
response, she concluded that the doctor had been called out, and so
returned home.

There is a short, winding drive with a lamp at the end of it leading
down from the house to the road. As Mrs. Madding emerged from the gate
a man was coming along the footpath. Thinking that it might be Dr.
Lana returning from some professional visit, she waited for him, and
was surprised to see that it was Mr. Arthur Morton, the young squire.
In the light of the lamp she observed that his manner