"Now, Miss French, one thing is manifest. If Major Lyveden remains at Gramarye, he will lose his reason." The doctor paused, and for the first time Valerie noticed the sober, methodical tick of a grandfather's clock. This, so far from spoiling, served to enrich the silence investing the latter with an air of _couchant_ dignity which was most compelling. "He is at present the prey of certain malignant forces--the more immediate of them natural; some, I believe, unnatural--and nothing short of his removal from where he is now can set him free. I'm not certain that even removal will be entirely effective. But it's obviously the first step. If a man is down with malaria, the first thing to do is to get him out of the swamp." Valerie was very pale, but her voice did not tremble. "And supposing he won't leave...?" "He must be taken away--forcibly. Listen. At the village inn I picked up a lot of news. All sorts of rumours are current--all touching Gramarye. Most of them are nonsense, and I won't repeat them. Others are founded on hard fact. Have you heard of a Colonel Winchester?" Valerie nodded. "Major Lyveden spoke of him as his employer." "That's right. He owns the estate, and was the working manager of this restoration business." "_Was?_" breathed the girl. "Was. Three weeks ago he went mad." Valerie started violently. "It's said that he tried to kill Lyveden. That I can't answer for, but he's in a private asylum for dangerous lunatics." There was a painful silence. Then-- "Is--is it the place?" said Valerie faintly. The specialist rose to his feet and started to pace the room.