He stood and stared at me, the breath coming from him with great palpitations. Never had I seen him so seriously disturbed. "Benham," he gasped, "our friend, Vernon, is a scoundrel." I did not doubt it. I had had no reason to suppose the contrary. But I did not say so. I held my tongue. Crampton went on, gesticulating, as he spoke, with both fists clenched; dilating on the cause of his disorder with as much freedom as if the place had been as private as the matters of which he treated; apparently forgetful that, all the time, he stood at the man's street door. "You know he stole from me my Lilian--promised she should be his wife! They were to have been married in a month. And now he's jilted her--thrown her over--as if she were a thing of no account. Made her the laughing stock of all the town! And for whom do you think, of all the women in the world? Mary Hartopp--a widow that should know better! It's not an hour since I was told. I came here straight. And now Mr. Vernon knows something of my mind." I could not help but think, as he went striding away, as if he were beside himself with rage--without giving me a chance to say a word--that all the world would quickly learn something of it too. The moment seemed scarcely to be a propitious one for interviewing Decimus Vernon. He would hardly be in a mood to receive a visitor. But, as the matter of which I wished to speak to him was of pressing importance, and another opportunity might not immediately occur, I decided to approach him as if unconscious of anything untoward having happened. As I began to mount the stairs there came stealing, rather than walking down them, Vernon's man, John Parkes. At sight of me, the fellow started. "Oh, Mr. Benham, sir, it's you! I thought it was Mr. Crampton back again." I looked at Parkes, who seemed sufficiently upset. I had known the fellow for years. "There's been a little argument, eh, Parkes?" Parkes raised both his hands. "A little argument, sir! There's been the most dreadful quarrel I ever heard." "Where is Mr. Vernon?" "He's in the library, sir, where Mr. Crampton left him. Shall I go and tell him that you would wish to see him?" Parkes eyed me in a manner which plainly suggested that, if he were in my place, he should wish to do nothing of the kind. I declined his unspoken suggestion, preferring, also, to announce myself. I rapped with my knuckles at the library door. There was no answer. I rapped again. As there was still no response, I opened the door and entered. "Vernon?" I cried. I perceived at a glance that the room was empty. I was aware that, adjoining this apartment was a room which he fitted up as a bedroom, and in which he often slept. I saw that the door of this inner room was open. Concluding that he had gone in there, I went to the threshold and called "Vernon!"