The sight of his former body lying so still and deathlike gave him a momentary pang, and he could not help contrasting its handsome face and fine figure with his present uncouth exterior, for owing to the ordeals to which it had been subjected, the body of Dr. Roversmire was in a rather battered condition. Adrian saw that his own frame was still wrapped in the ulster, and the hat lay beside the couch on the floor, but although he hunted in every corner of the vault he could not find the stick. With a thrill of terror he extinguished the electric light and then in the darkness, feebly lighted by the glimmering taper, he seemed to feel the spiritual presence of the old fakir, who had doubtless returned to see how the occupant of his body was getting on. A cold breath of air seemed to break suddenly into the warm atmosphere of the vault, and Adrian half thought he saw a luminous cloud hovering near him. The half vision however soon vanished, and the young man put it down to the excited state of his mind. Still, the vault seemed to be occupied by some strange presence, and he hurriedly left this nether apartment and returned hurriedly to the upper room, which he luckily found still untenanted. "Thank heaven that infernal servant didn't discover my absence," he thought, blowing out the candle. "I don't trust him in any way, and the old doctor was more easily gulled than I should have thought possible if he believed in a man with such a treacherous face." At this moment the subject of his reflections entered the room and proceeded to clear away the breakfast things, at the same time handing the Daily Telegraph of the day to his master. "By-the-way, Dentham, you did not see a walking-stick lying about here--an oak stick with a gold band round it?" asked Adrian unfolding the paper. "No sir, I did not," replied Dentham, telling the lie without moving a muscle of his pale face, "was it yours sir?" "Yes! I carried it yesterday and left it lying about the room." "I did not know you were out yesterday, sir." "You don't know a good many things," said Adrian tartly, smoothing out the newspaper, "you can go." Dentham withdrew without a word and smiled subtly to himself when safe outside. "Says it's his own stick," he muttered under his breath. "Oh, yes, I dare say--but your name don't begin with 'A. L.' Dr. Roversmire--there's something queer about all this; I believe he's the head of a gang of forgers and one of 'em came to see him. I'll keep my eyes open in case there's a row." Adrian soon dismissed the episode of the stick from his mind, as he did not remember all the events of the previous night and half thought he might have lost the stick in his journey from the garden door to the house. Meantime he looked at the paper anxious to see if there was anything about his crime of the previous night. As he anticipated there was a short statement, but owing to the late hour at which the affair had taken place, a very full report had not come to hand.