The next moment, with a glance at Graham-Shute, Mr. Bradfield jumped up, and, making a step towards an inner door, which led into the library, made a sign to Stelfox to follow him. But Mr. Graham-Shute’s curiosity was roused. “Eh--what? What, it’s something about that lunatic of yours, Bradfield, I’m sure!” he cried excitedly. “He has got into some mischief or other! I knew he would while I was here. What--what is it, Stelfox? Has the creature got away, or what?” Stelfox nodded. “That’s it, sir,” he said. John Bradfield, who had reached the library door, reeled abruptly round. “Got away--again? Good heavens!” Mr. Graham-Shute was fidgetting nervously about the room. Stelfox stood like a rock. “Then why--why on earth don’t you go after him?” said Mr. Graham-Shute. John Bradfield interrupted his querulous questions. “When did you find it out, and what have you done?” “I found it out a couple of hours ago, sir, and I’ve been hunting high and low ever since, and I’ve had some of the men helping me. Of course, it all had to be done on the quiet, so as not to frighten the ladies.” “Yes, for heaven’s sake don’t let my wife hear of it,” moaned Mr. Graham-Shute, “or she’ll give us twice as much trouble as any lunatic. Do you think he’s anywhere about the house?” Stelfox glanced at his master, who had turned deadly white at the suggestion. “I don’t think so, sir.” Mr. Bradfield appeared suddenly to rouse himself from the sort of stupefaction into which Stelfox’s intelligence had thrown him. Crossing the room with quick steps, he picked out from a pile of canes and weapons of various kinds which stood in one corner a heavy, loaded stick. “We must lose no time,” said he. “Have you any ideas as to which direction he will have taken?” “No, sir. All I’m sure of is that he can’t have got far. You see, sir, he can’t meet anyone without their finding out that something’s wrong with him, even if he should chance upon someone that doesn’t know where he belongs to. No, sir; what I’m afraid of is, lest he should happen upon Miss Abercarne. After that day, and seeing what he did, he’d frighten her so dreadfully, sir.” “He mustn’t meet her--he mustn’t meet her on any account!” said John Bradfield with excitement, and he brought the end of his heavy stick down with force upon the ground. “I hope you don’t mean to brain the poor chap?” exclaimed Mr. Graham-Shute apprehensively. “No. But unluckily there’s a possibility of his braining the first person he meets. Do you know, Stelfox, whether he took anything which he could use as a weapon away with him?” Stelfox hesitated a moment, and then answered: “Well, sir, one leg of the mahogany table that stands in his sitting-room has been forced off. It looks as if he’d been preparing for this job, for it’s clear he’s been hacking away at the leg on the quiet for some time, so that at last he was able to wrench it off.” While he spoke, Mr. Bradfield was buttoning himself in his ulster. Stelfox went on: