A waiter then came into the room bearing a slip of paper, which he took to Judge Bolitho. The judge received it calmly and unfolded it, talking meanwhile to his neighbour at the table. After reading a few lines, however, a puzzled expression came on to his face, which was followed by a look almost amounting to terror. More than one who watched him thought he saw his hands tremble somewhat; nevertheless, he held himself in check, like one who was trying to appear to be calm, as he read it the second time. The men who were at the bottom of the table went on with their stories, but Judge Bolitho evidently did not listen. His mind was far away. His cigar had gone out, too, but he did not seem conscious of it. "I wonder what is in that letter?" asked a man of his neighbour, as he watched the judge's face. "Oh, there's no knowing. Fellows in Bolitho's position are always getting queer missives." "He looks mighty uncomfortable, anyhow." The judge took a wineglass in his hand and began toying with it, but it was evident that he did not know what he was doing. "I say, Bolitho"--it was a county court judge who spoke to him--"Did you notice that woman's face who fell down in a faint this morning? It was positively ghastly when she looked at you." Evidently Judge Bolitho did not hear. He took not the slightest notice of the remark. He was still toying with the wineglass. "I say, Bolitho, aren't you well?" And still the judge's face was rigid, and his eyes had in them a fixed far-away look. The other caught him by the sleeve. "Aren't you well, Bolitho?" The judge gave a great start. "What's that?" he asked. "Aren't you well? You look deathly pale. Have another glass of wine, my dear fellow." But the judge rose to his feet. "No; I'm not very well," he said. "I think I must ask you to excuse me." By this time the attention of all present was drawn to him, and there were general expressions of sympathy. But of these Judge Bolitho seemed unconscious. "Good-night, gentlemen," he said. "I am sorry to be obliged to leave you, but I don't feel very well." "There was something in that letter," was the general whisper. "Something that disturbed him!" But the fact was almost forgotten as soon as he had left the room. The judge found his way to his own apartment. "Where's Mary, I wonder?" he said. But Mary was nowhere visible. He knocked at her bedroom door, but received no answer. He went into all the rooms set apart for their use, but she was nowhere to be seen. "She did not tell me she was going out, either," he reflected. But it was evident he had very little interest in her whereabouts. He acted more like a man in a dream than one in full possession of his faculties. He threw himself into an arm-chair and again carefully read the letter which had been sent to him. When he had finished, he looked around the room as though he were afraid he were being watched. "No; no one is here," he said. "No one knows."