for the outer door was ajar, and, drawing
it back, he stepped inside, to find the inner door only just thrust to,
while, after opening it a little way, he could see Stratton seated at
his writing table with his face resting upon his hands.

The lamp was before him, with the shade thrust on one side, so that the
light was cast toward the window, and his face and hands were in
darkness; and so motionless did he seem that Guest concluded that he
must be asleep.

Guest gave a sharp look round, but the room was too dim for much to be
seen. It did not, however, by that light appear to be neglected.

There was an angular look in Stratton's attitude which startled Guest,
and made him step forward with his heart beating heavily. The
unfastened door was terribly suggestive of the entrance of a man who
hardly knew what he was doing, and he now saw that a hat was lying on
the floor as if it had fallen from the table. In an ordinary way such
ideas would not have occurred to him, but he had twice over visited that
room, and been startled by matters which had suggested Stratton's
intention of doing away with his life.

All this made Guest walk quickly up behind his friend's chair, and his
hand was raised to touch him, but he drew back, for a sigh, long-drawn
and piteous, broke the silence of the dim room--such a sigh as escapes
from a sleeping child lying exhausted after some passionate burst of
temper.

Guest, too, drew a long breath as he crept away softly, looking over his
shoulder till he reached the doors, through which he passed, and hurried
over the few steps along the landing to where Myra and Edie stood
shivering in the cold, dark entry leading to Brettison's chambers.

"Oh, how long you have been," whispered Edie, to whom Myra was clinging.

"Come, Mrs Barron," said Guest, without heeding the remark, as he took
Myra's hand, which struck cold through her glove, and drew it through
his arm.

"Wait there, Edie."

The girl uttered a faint ejaculation, but said nothing, and Myra walked
silently to Stratton's door, and as Guest raised his hand to draw it
toward him she pressed it back.

"Wait," she said in a hoarse whisper. "My brain seems to swim. Mr
Guest, let me think for a moment of what I am going to do before it is
too late."

Guest waited, half supporting her, for she hung heavily upon his arm,
but she did not speak.

"I will tell you," he said gently; "you are going like some good angel
to solace a ma