It was Sir Charles Venner that saved his life. The surgeon, who, it seems, had possessed himself some time since of my master's latch-key, entered silently in the midst of the fracas, and he pulled me from my already black-faced prey. I got to my feet, shaking like a leaf, and hardly conscious where I was. My master's door was shut, and Marion stood against it, her two great eyes burning out of her sheet-white face. She too was trembling violently. "What is all this?" demanded Sir Charles, stirring the insensible Sefton Dagmar with his foot. "Brown is not to blame," muttered the girl. "Sir William ordered him to make Mr. Dagmar leave the house. He--he had forced his way into the sick-room!" She gave me once more an appealing glance, as though asking me to substantiate her story. "That--that is all!" she concluded with a sob. "Mr. Dagmar resisted me," I added quickly. "He made a dreadful scene in the sick room. Upon my soul, sir, I believe he wished to kill his uncle!" Sir Charles nodded. "Not unlikely," he remarked indifferently enough. "Carry the blackguard downstairs, Brown. Now, Marion, by your leave I'll see my patient." They disappeared, and I, stooping, lifted young Dagmar in my arms and carried him below. When he recovered he gave me a look of murderous malignity, got silently to his feet, and staggered to his room. Ten minutes later he departed from the house without sparing a word to me or any other there. I was glad to see his back, for although I bore him no ill-will, I had no longer any manner of use for him. Sir Charles Venner soon afterwards was good enough to pay a visit to my pantry. "Was that Mr. Dagmar who went out a while ago?" he demanded. "Yes, Sir Charles." "Did he take his traps?" "Yes, sir." "Don't admit him again, Brown. He has upset your master very much. By the way, I am pleased with you Brown; you acted very properly. You need not repay me the money that I lent you, my man. I wish you to keep it as a little present--from me." "Oh, sir!" I cried, "I could not think of doing that. I shall always be indebted to you by the memory of your kindness and glad to be, Sir Charles. But you must let me pay you back the money." "Well, well; I'm not sure but what I like you the better for that spirit, Brown. Yet I think you are a fool." "It is the way I was made, sir," I murmured apologetically. "Thank you kindly all the same." He nodded and left. His suspicions were dead, that was evident. I thought it very funny, but I was less pleased than I might have been. My unwavering run of success, God knows why, was beginning to give me a Dead Sea flavour in the mouth. Perhaps Marion had something to do with it. Indeed, I could not drive her from my thoughts, except to con my own rascality. Whereon this wonder speedily arose: what would she think of me if she could know? At about eleven o'clock she appeared in the door armed with her inevitable bowl. "I must make another poultice!" she announced.