Here Dr. Pratt descended and fastened his horse. Mr. Colville also sprang out, and they entered with a familiar air, the heavy gate closing and shutting them in. "Now, that is rather strange," thought the detective as he walked his horse slowly past the deserted-looking place. "What business has Colville in there? I can imagine that Pratt may have a patient inside those gloomy walls; but what the deuce can Colville have to do with it? I am almost positive that I heard shrieks issuing thence when they went in at the gate. I wonder can it be a private asylum for the insane?" He spurred his horse ahead and rode on for some distance, then paused, and remained as erect and still as a statue while he watched and waited for the pair of confederates to come forth. But at least an hour elapsed before they emerged, and pursued the devious tenor of their guilty way. "Now, upon my word," thought the wary spy, "Doctor Pratt must have a very interesting case inside of those gloomy, prison-like walls. I have a mind to stop somewhere in the neighborhood and inquire about the inhabitants thereof." He accordingly suffered Doctor Pratt's carriage to drive on out of sight, and stopping before a cottage on the road with the ostensible purpose of obtaining a drink of water, he inquired of the woman who gave it to him as to the names of the people who inhabited the old house with the stone wall. "And indade, it's mesilf that cannot tell ye, sor," said she, with a very broad Hibernian accent, "for shure, Mickey and mesilf have but lately moved intil the cot, and knows naught about the nayburs!" Mr. Shelton rode on and made the same inquiry at the next house, but elicited no encouraging answer. People did not seem to know anything about the deserted-looking old house in such close proximity to them. After several similar experiences he rode on quite disgusted with the general stupidity of the neighborhood. Almost two miles from the old house that had so powerfully attracted his interest, he came upon a little house standing close to the roadside. A kind-looking woman sat in the doorway, though the day was chilly, and as she kept knitting away on the homely gray stocking, sang cheerily at her work. "Now that is a pleasant-looking old soul," he thought. "Perhaps her intellect is above the average of her neighbors. Perhaps she is better informed than they are. At any rate, I will speak to her." He dismounted from his horse this time, fastened him at the gate-post, and walked up the narrow path to the door. The good woman arose in quite a flutter. "Do not let me disturb you," said he, courteously. "I only wish to trouble you for a drink of water. I have ridden far and feel very thirsty." "Certainly, sir," said the woman, in a voice as pleasant as her face. "Come in and have a seat, sir, and you shall have a draught fresh from the spring."