The constable took a step to obey, and kicked against something which rattled as it flew forward, and struck the wainscot board, while the next moment a dim, blue spark of light in a ground-glass burst into a flame, and lit up a dingy-looking, old-fashioned surgery just as the kneeling girl uttered a piteous cry. "That's enough," muttered the constable, stooping and picking up the object he had kicked against--a short whalebone-handled life-preserver, and slipping it into his pocket. "Tells tales. Now, Miss," he continued aloud, bending over the prostrate figure. "Hah! yes! I thought as much." It was plain enough. A slight thread of blood was trickling slowly from a spot on the smooth glistening bald head of the prostrate man, while as, with a moan of anguish, the girl thrust her arm softly beneath his neck, and raised the head, the mark of another blow was visible above the temple. "Now, Miss, I can't leave you like this. Let me stay while you go for help. We must have some one here." These words seemed to rouse the girl into fierce action, and she gently supported the wounded head, her hand sought the injured man's wrist, and seized it in a professional way. "Man," she cried with angry energy, "while we are seeking help he may-- Yes; still beating. Quick! Open that door. No, no; that's the way into the street! The other door--the consulting-room. Prop it open with a chair. We must get him on to the sofa, and do something at once." "Yes, Miss; but a doctor." "I am a doctor's daughter, man, and know what to do. Quick!" "Well, of all--" muttered the constable, as he proceeded to the door in question; and then, without finishing the sentence, "Well, she is a plucked one!" He stepped into a shabbily furnished room, in whose grate a fire was just aglow; and as the door swung to, and he cast the light round to seek for a chair, he caught sight of a vacant couch, a table with bottle, glasses, and sugar thereon, and the cover drawn all on one side, so that the glasses were within an ace of being off; and then, drawing in his breath, he stepped to the other side of the table, and held down the light, which fell upon a drawn and ghastly face, while, hidden by the table-cover, there lay the figure of a well-dressed man. "Fit," muttered the constable, bending lower. "No; I ain't a doctor, but I know what that means." He stepped back quickly, and shut the door after him. "No, no! prop it open." "Let it be, Miss," he replied sternly. "There's something else wrong there." The girl stared up at him aghast. "Here's a sofy will do," he continued, pointing to a kind of settee, cushioned, and with a common moreen valance hanging down, while a rough kind of pillow was fastened to one end. "You get up, Miss, and lift a bit. I won't hurt him more than I can help. That's it. Sorry, Miss, I thought what I did."