ing, although he
listened eagerly; but it seemed that the sound, whatever it might have
been, had alarmed the two men. It was evidently repeated, for the lamp
was put out instantly, and he felt himself forcibly thrust into what
seemed to be a cupboard and heard the key turned in the lock.

For a few moments George Brudenell was dazed again--stupefied. He was
so utterly amazed that he could hardly believe that it was not all a
dream. Was this the latter half of the nineteenth century....was he in
the heart of London? Then suddenly he realized his position, tried to
suppress his very breathing and the beating of his heart, for there was
a sound of footsteps upon the creaking stairs, some one else entered
the room, there was the scratching of a match, and a pale thread of
light crept under the door of his prison, showing that the lamp had
been relighted. He listened intently, jealously, straining every nerve
to hear and to understand. Voices whispered; he could distinguish the
tones of the two men, but not their words, the muffled muttering was
too low; then there came a cry, followed by a rapid movement toward the
door which shut him from these strange whisperers--more, a hand was
even laid upon the lock and the key was partly turned. Then there came
a scuffle, almost a struggle, a sound of something being dragged along
the bare boards, and the voice of the elder man muttering fiercely,
threateningly. The Doctor, as the footsteps retreated and the savage,
repressed sounds died away into a distant murmur, leaned against the
damp wall of his prison, and fought with a fresh perplexity. The
new-comer into that gloomy house of wickedness and mystery was a woman!
He had heard the sweep of heavy skirts as his door was approached, and
that one shrill, hardly-stifled cry had surely been in a woman's voice!
Then the pale thread of light was withdrawn, the sound of footsteps
moved toward the door, and a horrible fear assailed him. Was he to be
left there to break his way out into light or to die in darkness? The
notion was horrible; his self-control failed him; and with his clenched
hands he hammered upon the panels of the door, calling out loudly that
he would not be left there, trapped like a rat, and appealing to them
to let him out.

There was a pause, more hurried, unintelligible whispering, then
footsteps drew near the door, and outside a voice spoke--the elder
man's.

"Be silent, and no harm will be done you. Be patient, s