estion."

"Windows?"

"First floor, no balcony, and overlook Hyde Park."

"Is there no clue to the mystery?"

"There are three!"

"What are they?"

"First: the nature of the wounds. Second: Lord Lashmore's idea that
something was in the room at the moment of his awakening. Third: the
fact that an identical attempt was made upon him last night!"

"Last night! Good God! With what result?"

"The former wounds, though deep, are very tiny, and had quite healed
over. One of them partially reopened, but Lord Lashmore awoke
altogether more readily and before any damage had been done. He says
that some soft body rolled off the bed. He uttered a loud cry, leapt
out and switched on the electric lights. At the same moment he heard a
frightful scream from his wife's room. When I arrived--Lashmore
himself summoned me on this occasion--I had a new patient."

"Lady Lashmore?"

"Exactly. She had fainted from fright, at hearing her husband's cry, I
assume. There had been a slight hemorrhage from the throat, too."

"What! Tuberculous?"

"I fear so. Fright would not produce hemorrhage in the case of a
healthy subject, would it?"

Dr. Cairn shook his head. He was obviously perplexed.

"And Lord Lashmore?" he asked.

"The marks were there again," replied Sir Elwin; "rather lower on the
neck. But they were quite superficial. He had awakened in time and had
struck out--hitting something."

"What?"

"Some living thing; apparently covered with long, silky hair. It
escaped, however."

"And now," said Dr. Cairn--"these wounds; what are they like?"

"They are like the marks of fangs," replied Sir Elwin; "of two long,
sharp fangs!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE SECRET OF DHOON

Lord Lashmore was a big, blonde man, fresh coloured, and having his
nearly white hair worn close cut and his moustache trimmed in the neat
military fashion. For a fair man, he had eyes of a singular colour.
They were of so dark a shade of brown as to appear black: southern
eyes; lending to his personality an oddness very striking.

When he was shown into Dr. Cairn's library, the doctor regarded him
with that searching scrutiny peculiar to men of his profession, at the
same time inviting the visitor to be seated.

Lashmore sat down in the red leathern armchair, resting his large
hands upon his knees, with the fingers widely spread. He had a massive
dignity, but was not entirely at his ease.

Dr. Cairn opened the conversation, in his direct fashi