etimes. Tell me, why should that man have been haunting your
house the other evening? What did he want? And to-night--what made
him break into your room?"

She sighed.

"If it were only so simple as all that," she answered, "oh! I would
tell you so willingly. But it is not. There is so much which I do
not understand myself."

He leaned a little closer towards her. The silence of the room and
the house was unbroken.

"The man will die!" he said. "Who do you believe could have struck
him that blow in your room?"

"I do not know," she answered; "indeed I do not."

"You heard what Groves said," Arnold continued. "There is no one in
the house except the servants."

"That man was here," she answered. "Why not others? Listen."

There was the sound of shuffling footsteps in the hall. She held up
her finger cautiously.

"Be very careful before Mr. Weatherley," she begged. "It is an
ordinary burglary, this--no more."

The door was opened. Mr. Weatherley, in hasty and most unbecoming
deshabille, bustled in. His scanty gray hair was sticking out in
patches all over his head. He seemed, as yet, scarcely awake. With
one hand he clutched at the dressing-gown, the girdle of which was
trailing behind him.

"What is the meaning of this, Fenella?" he demanded. "Why am I
fetched from my room in this manner? You, Chetwode? What are you
doing here?"

"I have brought Mrs. Weatherley home, sir," Arnold answered. "We
noticed a light in her room and we made a discovery there. It looks
as though there has been an attempted burglary within the last hour
or so."

"Which room?" Mr. Weatherley asked. "Which room? Is anything
missing?"

"Nothing, fortunately," Arnold replied. "The man, by some means or
other, seems to have been hurt."

"Where is he?" Mr. Weatherley demanded.

"In my boudoir," Fenella replied. "We will all go. I have telephoned
for a doctor."

"A doctor? What for?" Mr. Weatherley inquired. "Who needs a doctor?"

"The burglar, if he is a burglar," she explained, gently. "Don't you
understand that all we found was a man, lying in the centre of the
room? He has had a fall of some sort."

"God bless my soul!" Mr. Weatherley said. "Well, come along, let's
have a look at him."

They trooped down the passage. Groves, waiting outside for them,
opened the door. Mr. Weatherley, who was first, looked all around
the apartment.

"Where is this man?" he demanded. "Where is he?"

[Illustration: "Where is this man?"