“Oh, it is dreadful! But you will follow on the next steamer, of course?” “No!” cried Percy Seabright, with a strange, hoarse laugh that almost curdled her blood. “No, I came straight home again, for----Elizabeth, my good old soul, I feel I’m going to be sick--to have one of my horrid spells. And then no one could care for me but you.” His dark eyes, that could be so soft and tender in expression, were wild and glaring, his lips were twitching nervously, the whole expression of his face filled her with dim alarm. She put out a hand to stay him, but he pushed past her, exclaiming: “I must go at once to my room.” He rushed past her, pushing back her feeble, detaining hands, and mounted the stairs, the woman following at his heels, wild with terror at his furious mood. “Oh, sir, wait--wait! You must not go into my room yet!” she cried hoarsely, and plucked at the skirt of his coat to draw him back. It was a fatal move on her part. He kicked back at her with furious impatience. The blow struck her full in the breast. Never before had he been unkind to the woman who was so devoted to his interests. A frenzy must have possessed him. There was a moan of pain and terror, then the woman reeled backward, throwing out her arms in a vain attempt to clutch the balustrade, and fell headlong down the stairway, striking the polished oaken floor with awful force. Then she lay there motionless as a log. The noise penetrated the parlor. There rushed out the lawyer and his wife followed by two others--Professor Doepkin and Emmett Harlow. They had followed the others by secret arrangement with Mr. Gardner, and were impatiently awaiting the return of Italy. They rushed out at sound of the heavy fall, and found the housekeeper lying there like one dead. At the same moment the female servants rushed into the hall. “She has fallen down the stairs and killed herself!” shrieked both in concert. But when they turned her over she groaned heavily. “No, she was only stunned. Bring water quickly,” cried Mr. Gardner. They laved her face and hands, and presently her closed eyes opened, and she moaned wildly: “To my room, my own room!” “She wants to be carried to her room. I’ll lead the way,” cried one of the maids. Professor Doepkin and Emmett Harlow carried the heavy woman up the stairway to her room. As they laid her on her bed, she pointed, with upraised hands, to the door across the room. “In there! in there! Save--the--girl!” she gurgled, with a terrible effort; then her head fell back, blood gushed from her mouth. Professor Doepkin was the first to reach the closed door. He flung it open, for Percy Seabright, in his surprise and fury, had forgotten to lock it. What a sight met his appalled gaze! The padded cell of a dangerous lunatic, and upon the floor struggling in the grasp of a murderous demon whose talonlike fingers clutched her throat so that she could not utter a sound, lay Italy Vale!