The sound of soft footsteps proceeded, as I supposed, from Gabriel Carew, but to my surprise he was not coming towards the room I had just left, but was stealthily ascending the stairs which led to Mildred's room. His eyes were open, and his movements were dictated by intelligent caution, but he was asleep. In his left hand he carried the naked dagger. I ran up the stairs softly and swiftly, heedless of danger to myself, and walked by his side. He took no notice of me. Standing by the door of Mildred's room he paused, and was about to put his hand to the handle when I seized his wrist. "What are you about to do?" I whispered, my lips close to his ear. "Speak low, the house must not be disturbed." To my horror, he replied, in a whisper as low and distinct as my own: "'Our race must die with him; not one must live after him to perpetuate it. I lay this injunction most solemnly upon him; if he violate it he will be an incredible monster.'" They were the words written by his father which he had already quoted to me earlier in the day. "Your daughter is not in that room," I said, not raising my voice, grateful that we had as yet attracted no notice. "If you enter, your purpose will be frustrated." "Who speaks to me?" he asked. "The spirit of murder," I said. "The Devil who is leading your soul to perdition. Come with me. I will direct you aright." He shuddered, but he did not hesitate. With my hand still firmly grasping his wrist, he allowed me to lead him from the room. We descended the stairs, slowly, stealthily, until we reached the landing upon which the study was situated. I led him into the room, and with lightning motion locked the door and plucked out the key. Then, uncertain how next to act, I took my hand from his wrist, and retreated a few steps. He, also, was now uncertain of his movements. He stood still a while, then tried the door, and finding it fast, took some halting steps this way and that, and finally fell into the chair in which he had been accustomed to write. As I gazed upon him I was sensible of a gradual change in his appearance. A pallor crept into his face, a film seemed to come across his eyes. Alarmed, I grasped his shoulder with rough strength, and shook him violently. "Mr. Carew!" I called. He trembled in every limb, closed his eyes, and clasped them with his hands--in one of which he still held the dagger. Presently he removed his hands from his face, and looked confusedly at me. "Are you awake?" I asked. "Yes," he replied faintly. "Give me a glass of water." I gave him a full glass, and he drained it. I observed as he did so that it was only by an effort he prevented it from slipping from his hand. Then he spoke again. "How came I here?" he asked. "Skilful as you are in your profession, you can do nothing for me. How came I here?" "I conducted you hither," I said, "from the door of Mildred's room. You have a dagger in your hand."