“If she left here because she was ill she went into an institution of some kind, the name of which you will be able to give me,” said Michael, as he turned on the light. One glance at the room told him that the story of her hasty departure may have been accurate. But that the circumstances were normal, the appearance of the room denied. The bed was in confusion; there was blood on the pillow, and a dark brown stain on the wall. A chair was broken; the carpet had odd and curious stains, one like the print of a bare foot. On a sheet was an indubitable hand-print, but such a hand as no human being had ever possessed. “The mark of the beast,” said Michael, pointing. “That’s Bhag!” Again the baronet licked his lips. “There was a bit of a fight here,” he said. “The man came up and pretended to identify the servant as his wife——” “What happened to him?” There was no reply. “What happened to him?” asked Michael with ominous patience. “I let him go, and let him take the woman with him. It was easier——” With a sudden exclamation, Michael stooped and picked up from behind the bed a bright steel object. It was the half of a sword, snapped clean in the middle, and unstained. He looked along the blade, and presently found the slightest indent. Picking up the chair, he examined the leg and found two deeper dents in one of the legs. “I’ll reconstruct the scene. You and your Bhag caught the man after he had got into this room. The chair was broken in the struggle, probably by Bhag, who used the chair. The man escaped from the room, ran downstairs into the library and got the sword from the wall, then came up after you. That’s when the real fighting started. I guess some of this blood is yours, Penne.” “Some of it!” snarled the other. “All of it, damn him!” There was a long silence. “Did the woman leave this room—alive?” “I believe so,” said the other sullenly. “Did her husband leave your library—alive?” “You’d better find that out. So far as I know—I was unconscious for half an hour. Bhag can use a sword——” Michael did not leave the house till he had searched it from attic to basement. He had every servant assembled and began his interrogation. Each of them except one spoke Dutch, but none spoke the language to such purpose that they made him any wiser than he had been. Going back to the library, he put on all the lights. “I’ll see Bhag,” he said. “He’s out, I tell you. If you don’t believe me——” Penne went to the desk and turned the switch. The door opened and nothing came out.