"A weakness of which I am not guilty," he answered drily. "Nor have I been outside the grounds. We have been hard at work." "Did you walk here?" I asked. He shook his head. "I came down in a trap from the Castle, but the man was going to Mellborough and I told him not to wait for me. You won't walk across the park with me, I suppose, just to get an appetite for dinner? It's a splendid evening." I looked at him furtively, but closely. Yes, Mr. Marx was a coward, in addition to his other slight demerits. "No, thanks," I answered shortly. "I've had a long walk already today. Good evening!" I turned back into the sitting-room, but before I had reached my easy-chair I began to think that I was scarcely behaving well. After all, Mr. Marx was a middle-aged man, and it was possible that his strength might have been sapped by the brain labour in which he was constantly engaged and his sedentary life. Supposing he were to encounter this lunatic and suffer at his hands, perhaps even lose his life, should I not blame myself? I came to a speedy decision. I would let him have his fright, but I would follow him at a little distance and see that he came to no harm. I took a short, heavy stick from the rack and, crossing the stackyard, vaulted over the palings into the park, purposely avoiding the gate. About a hundred yards in front Mr. Marx was walking quickly along, with both hands in his ulster pockets, and looking frequently around him. Men had been busy in the park on the previous day cutting the bracken, and along the side of the road were many stacks of it waiting to be carted away. I noticed that whenever Mr. Marx drew near one of these he gave it a wide berth and I smiled to myself at this evidence of his anxiety. I was walking on the turf, that he might not hear my footsteps, and was able to keep him easily in sight, for it was a clear, frosty evening, and the full moon was shining in a cloudless sky. At a sudden bend in the road he came in sight of a place where stacks of bracken had been left on either side opposite to each other. I saw him pause as though hesitating which he should avoid, and at the same moment I distinctly saw some dark body crouched down behind one of them and swaying slightly backwards and forwards. I broke at once into a run, but before the echoes of my warning shout had died away a figure sprang like a wild cat at Mr. Marx's throat. There was a flash and a sharp report, but from the direction of the former I could see that the revolver had been knocked up into the air and exploded harmlessly. When at last I reached the assailant and his victim it was a fearful sight I looked upon. The face of the lunatic was ghastly and his wild eyes almost started from their sockets in his rage.