He regarded me askance, evidently still by no means sure as to the nature of the part which I might be playing. “You are a curious person, Mr. Ferguson. You have your own ideas of the way in which justice is administered in England. However, you shall have your own way. Let Dr. Hume come in. My men can wait outside till they are wanted.” I unbolted the door, keeping my foot against it, to guard against a sudden rush. The crowd was still in waiting. It had evidently grown larger. As the people saw that the door was being opened, there were cries and exclamations. Hume was standing just outside. It seemed that it had been his intention to make a dart within; but the spectacle of me in the doorway caused him to hesitate. By him were the inspector’s friends. Misunderstanding the situation, they made an effort to force the door wider open. It was all I could do to hold it against them. “Hume, you can come in. Inspector Symonds, give your men their instructions.” “Gray, are you there?” “Yes, sir! Do you want us?” “Not just now. I may do shortly; keep where you are. Send along for some one to keep those people moving.” “Very good, sir. Are you all right in there?” “For the present I am. Keep a sharp look-out. If you hear me give the word, come in at once--if you have to break down the door to do it.” “Right, sir!” I rebolted the door, boos and groans coming from the crowd as they perceived themselves being shut out from the sight of anything which there might be to see. Hume had entered. He was looking about him as if the position of affairs were beyond his comprehension. “Symonds, what does all this mean? Ferguson, what new madness have you been up to? Miss Moore, you here! This is no place for you!” “I think it is.” “I say it’s not. You ought to be in bed. Who gave you permission to leave your room?” “I gave myself permission, thank you. I am quite able to take care of myself. And, if I’m not, here’s Mr. Ferguson.” “Mr. Ferguson! Mr. Ferguson stands in need of some one to take care of him.” He turned to me. “If you’ve had a hand in bringing Miss Moore here, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, if you’re capable of shame, which I’m beginning to doubt. Surely your own sense of decency, embryonic though it may be, ought to have told you that it is no place for her. What is this den which you have brought her to?” “Here is some one who can tell you better than I. Ask him, not me.” Lawrence broke into laughter. “That’s it, Ferguson. Hume, ask the corpse.” Hume stared at the speaker, as if he had been a spectre; which, apparently, he was more than half disposed to believe that he was. “Lawrence! Edwin Lawrence! Is it a living man, some demoniacal likeness, or is it a ghost? My God! is it a ghost?” Again Lawrence laughed. He went closer to the bewildered doctor; his eyes flaming, his manner growing wilder as he continued speaking.