"Am I, by any chance, in danger of sharing the fate of that distinguished surgeon?" he asked. His question produced an unforeseen effect. Mlle. Dorian suddenly rested her jewelled hands upon his shoulders, and he found himself looking hungrily into those wonderful Eastern eyes. "If I swear that I speak the truth, will you believe me?" she whispered, and her fingers closed convulsively upon his shoulders. He was shaken. Her near presence was intoxicating. "Perhaps," he said unsteadily. "Listen, then. _Now_ you are in danger, yes. Before, you were not, but now you must be very careful. Oh! indeed, indeed, I tell you true! I tell you for your own sake. Do with me what you please. I do not care. It does not matter. You ask me why I come here. I tell you that also. I come for what is in the long envelope--look, I cannot hide it. It is on the fire!" Stuart turned and glanced toward the grate. A faint wisp of brown smoke was arising from a long white envelope which lay there. Had the fire been actually burning, it must long ago have been destroyed. More than ever mystified, for the significance of the envelope was not evident to him, he ran to the grate and plucked the smouldering paper from the embers. As he did so, the girl, with one quick glance in his direction, snatched her cloak, keys and bag and ran from the room. Stuart heard the door close, and racing back to the table he placed the slightly charred envelope there beside the fragment of gold and leapt to the door. "Damn!" he said. His escaped prisoner had turned the key on the outside. He was locked in his own study! Momentarily nonplussed, he stood looking at the closed door. The sound of a restarted motor from outside the house spurred him to action. He switched off the lamps, crossed the darkened room and drew back the curtain, throwing open the French windows. Brilliant moonlight bathed the little lawn with its bordering of high privet hedges. Stuart ran out as the sound of the receding car reached his ears. By the time that he had reached the front of the house the street was vacant from end to end. He walked up the steps to the front door, which he unfastened with his latch-key. As he entered the hall, Mrs. M'Gregor appeared from her room. "I did no' hear ye go out with Miss Dorian," she said. "That's quite possible, Mrs. M'Gregor, but she has gone, you see." "Now tell me, Mr. Keppel, did ye or did ye no' hear the wail o' the pibroch the night? "No--I am afraid I cannot say that I did, Mrs. M'Gregor," replied Stuart patiently. "I feel sure you must be very tired and you can justifiably turn in now. I am expecting no other visitor. Good-night." Palpably dissatisfied and ill at ease, Mrs. M'Gregor turned away. "Good-night, Mr. Keppel," she said.