“Go! or I will most assuredly carry out my threat!” cried the old man, raising his voice shrilly. “You are wanted up at Saratoga for a felonious assault upon a man, which ended in his death. I knew when I read of the peculiar mark which the murdered man’s temple bore, of a triangle with a large stone in the center, probably a diamond, whose hand it was that dealt the murderous blow, but because my blood flowed in your veins I made no sign--I held my peace.” “You could not prove the accusation you are daring to make,” cried Challoner, trembling like a tiger ready to spring. “There are many, I fancy, who would be only too ready to do that,” retorted the old man, laconically. Raymond Challoner’s bad blood was up. He never thought of the consequence, and quick as a flash he thrust out his right hand, dealing a powerful blow at the man before him. But, quick as he was, the other was quicker. He stepped aside just in time to escape the terrific blow aimed at him. But in so doing he forgot that he had been standing so near the flight of stone steps that led to the basement below, and ere he discovered the fact, one fatal step backward sent him crashing down the entire flight! The accident had been witnessed by two of the servants, who were just about to ascend the stairway. They had not seen the old man’s antagonist strike the blow at him, for he was beyond their line of vision, but they had seen him step backward. When he was hurriedly raised, they found that he was unconscious, and suffering from a severe scalp wound. Raymond Challoner was equal to the occasion. In an instant he had leaped down the stone stairway and was bending over the stricken man, expressing the wildest grief for the accident. “Carry him to the sofa in the rear parlor, and let a doctor be sent for at once,” he commanded, and the servants, recognizing him as the injured man’s nephew, hastened to do his bidding. “The young wife is out driving,” said Dan. “I do not know where to send for her, sir, but I expect that she may be in any moment.” “Never mind her,” was the brief response. “She could do no good if she were here, but on the contrary would be in the way. All we can do is to make him as comfortable as possible until medical assistance arrives.” This was done, and the old man was placed on the sofa, with the curtains drawn back as far as possible to let in the light of the November afternoon which was fast waning. Although it was near dusk, it was still light enough for the doctor to attend his patient without lighting the lights when he arrived, which was a very few moments after he had been summoned. Ray Challoner stood by the improvised couch with apparently much solicitude. The old man’s head had scarcely been bandaged ere there was the sound of silken skirts in the corridor without. “It is my lady,” exclaimed old Dan, hurrying forward to acquaint her with what had transpired.