Arthur broke in: “My dear Gus, neither do I.” His tone implied so much more than the words that Gus was effectually silenced. They soon separated for the night; Wilbur had gone home half an hour before, and Edith had retired to her room, her nerves in a tumult over the occurrences of the evening; but through all the fright and horror ran a thrill of sweetness. Wilbur had whispered in her ear, as she lay half fainting: “My love! Do not be frightened; I will protect you!” “Who could it be? I _am_ so frightened!” clinging to his hand. “It is all past now, dear; I think it must have been some crazy person.” For another week things went on much as usual, except that Gus was now positive that Arthur went out each night at about half-past twelve; not returning until morning, always haggard and worn, and often in the most furious mood. Frequently he glared at Wilbur as though he would like to murder him; but if Wilbur turned, or he knew himself to be observed, his manner changed completely. He seemed anxious to throw Edith and Wilbur together; and yet, as they conversed or sat in silent contentment he would restlessly pace the floor, and finally fling himself out of the room angrily. Of a sudden he changed entirely; he remained at home of nights, went to the bank early in the morning, and remained until the hour of closing, seemingly intent upon a thorough understanding of every phase of the business, but at times showing such a strange forgetfulness—or ignorance—that Wilbur would pause, and look at him in astonishment. It was on Wednesday, there were papers missing, relating to some securities; Gus and Arthur had been vainly seeking them all the morning; finally Gus went over to Wilbur’s desk and asked, more because he was vexed and at a loss as to what to do, than for any other reason: “Wilbur, do you know anything about those securities?” mentioning the particular ones he wished. Without even pausing in his work Wilbur replied, naming the number of the drawer in the security vault where he would find them. Gus made him no reply, but sought the drawer described, and returned with the papers. He walked up to Wilbur, followed by Arthur: “Will you explain to me _how_ you knew where those securities were? After you told where they were, I remember placing them there; and I know that they have not been removed for over a year, long before you came here—” he paused significantly. Wilbur looked up from his work in complete bewilderment: “I do not know _how_ I know it, but it is all clear to me; the moment you mention a thing I seem to see it, and a long-stored knowledge seems instantly to step forth. I seem to know every crevice in these stones; every bolt, bar and drawer; but how I gained that knowledge I can not tell, because—I do not know.” As he talked he was gazing straight before him, with a strange, unseeing look.