rdinary
statement, which had been delivered in the jerky, broken fashion of a
man who is under the influence of extreme emotion. My companion sat
silent now for some time, with his chin upon his hand, lost in thought.

"Tell me," said he at last, "could you swear that this was a man's face
which you saw at the window?"

"Each time that I saw it I was some distance away from it, so that it is
impossible for me to say."

"You appear, however, to have been disagreeably impressed by it."

"It seemed to be of an unnatural colour and to have a strange rigidity
about the features. When I approached, it vanished with a jerk."

"How long is it since your wife asked you for a hundred pounds?"

"Nearly two months."

"Have you ever seen a photograph of her first husband?"

"No, there was a great fire at Atlanta very shortly after his death, and
all her papers were destroyed."

"And yet she had a certificate of death. You say that you saw it?"

"Yes, she got a duplicate after the fire."

"Did you ever meet anyone who knew her in America?"

"No."

"Did she ever talk of revisiting the place?"

"No."

"Or get letters from it?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Thank you. I should like to think over the matter a little now. If the
cottage is permanently deserted we may have some difficulty; if on the
other hand, as I fancy is more likely, the inmates were warned of your
coming, and left before you entered yesterday, then they may be back
now, and we should clear it all up easily. Let me advise you, then, to
return to Norbury and to examine the windows of the cottage again. If
you have reason to believe that it is inhabited do not force your way
in, but send a wire to my friend and me. We shall be with you within an
hour of receiving it, and we shall then very soon get to the bottom of
the business."

"And if it is still empty?"

"In that case I shall come out to-morrow and talk it over with you.
Good-bye, and above all do not fret until you know that you really have
a cause for it."

"I am afraid that this is a bad business, Watson," said my companion, as
he returned after accompanying Mr. Grant Munro to the door. "What did
you make of it?"

"It had an ugly sound," I answered.

"Yes. There's blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken."

"And who is the blackmailer?"

"Well, it must be this creature who lives in the only comfortable room
in the place, and has her photograph above his fireplace. Upon my word,
Watson,