Miss Brooke walked into the dining-room and opened the note. Caspar had gone out, she gathered from the fact of his having written to her at all: perhaps he had heard of Oliver Trent's death, and had gone to offer his services to Maurice, or to assist in discovering the murderer. So she thought to herself; and then she began to read the note. In another minute Sarah heard a strange, muffled cry; and running into the room found that Miss Brooke had sunk down on the sofa, and was trembling in every limb. Her brother's letter was crushed within her hand. "What does it mean, Sarah?--what does it mean?" she stammered, with a face so white and eyes so terror-stricken that Sarah took her to task at once. "It means a great, big lie, ma'am, that's all it means. Why, you ain't going to be put about by that, I hope, when master himself says--as he said to me--that he'd be home afore night! I'm ashamed of you, looking as pale as you do, and you a doctor and all!" "Did he say to you he would be home before night?" said Miss Brooke collecting herself a little, but still looking very white. Sarah took a step nearer to her, and spoke in a low voice. "Nobody else in the house knows where he's gone," she said, "but I know, for master called me himself, and told me what they wanted him for. It was two men in plain clothes, and there was a cab outside and a p'liceman on the box. 'Of course it's all a mistake, Sarah,' he said to me, as light-hearted as you please, 'and don't let Miss Lesley or your Missus be anxious. I dare say I shall be back in an hour or two.' And then he asked the men if he might write a note, and they let him, though they read it as he wrote, the nasty wretches!"--and Sarah snorted contemptuously, while she wiped away a tear from her left eye with her apron. "But it is so extraordinary--so ridiculous!" said Miss Brooke. And then, with a little more color in her face, she read her brother's letter over again. It consisted only of these words-- "DEAR SOPHY,--Don't worry yourself. The police have got it into their wise heads that I had something to do with poor Trent's tragic end. I dare say I shall be back soon, but I must go and hear what they've got to say. Take care of Lesley--C. B." "Take care of Lesley! As if _she_ wanted taking care of!" said Miss Brooke, with sudden energy. "Sarah, go over at once to Mr. Kenyon's, and tell Miss Lesley to come home. She can't stay _there_ while this is going on. It isn't decent."