“We must find out,” breathed Random, and raced through the white cotton-wool of the fog up the path. As he reached the veranda the door opened and a woman came running out screaming. But other screams inside the cottage still continued. “What is the matter?” cried Random, seizing the woman. She proved to be Jane. “Oh, sir, my mistress is being murdered--” Hope plunged past her into the corridor, not waiting to hear more. The cries had died down to a low moaning, and he dashed into the pink parlor to find it in smoky darkness. Striking a match, he held it above his head. It showed Mrs. Jasher prone on the floor, and a dark figure smashing its way through the flimsy window. There was a snarl and the figure vanished as the match went out. CHAPTER XXIV. A CONFESSION Jane was still being held by Sir Frank at the floor, and was still screaming, fully convinced that her captor was a burglar, in spite of having recognized him by his voice. Random was so exasperated by her stupidity that he shook her. “What is the matter, you fool?” he demanded. “Don't you know that I am a friend?” “Y-e-s, s-i-r,” gasped Jane, fetching her breath again after the shaking; “but go for the police. My mistress is being murdered.” “Mr. Hope is looking after that, and the screams have ceased. Who was with your mistress?” “I don't know, sir,” sobbed the servant. “I didn't know anyone had called, and then I heard the screaming. I looked into the parlor to see what was the matter, but the lamp had been thrown over and had gone out, and there was a dreadful struggle going on in the darkness, so I screamed and ran out and then I--oh--oh” Jane showed symptoms of renewed hysteria, and clutched Random tightly, as a man came cautiously round the corner. “Are you there, Random?” asked Hope's voice. “It's so infernally dark and foggy that I have missed him.” “Missed who?” “The man who was trying to murder Mrs. Jasher, He got her down when I entered and struck a match. Then he dashed through the window before I could catch him or even recognize him. He's vanished in the mist.” “It's no use looking for him anyhow,” said Random, peering into the dense blackness, which was thick with damp. “We had better see after Mrs. Jasher.” “Whom have you got there?” “Jane--who seems to have lost her head.” “It's a mercy I haven't lost my life, sir, with burglars and murderers all about the place,” sobbed the girl, dropping on to the veranda. Random promptly hauled her to her feet. “Go and get a candle, and keep calm if you can,” he said in an abrupt military voice. “This is no time to play the fool.”