"How is Doctor Zoberg?" I asked her. "Not very well, I'm afraid. He was exhausted by the experience, of course, and for a time seemed ready to break down. When the trouble began about you--the crowd gathered at the town hall--he gathered his strength and went out, to see if he could help defend or rescue you. He was gone about an hour and then he returned, bruised about the face. Somebody of the mob had handled him roughly, I think. He's resting at our place now, with a hot compress on his eye." "Good man!" I applauded. "At least he did his best for me." She was not finding much pleasure in her memories, however, and I suggested a change of the subject. We had lunch together, egg sandwiches and coffee, then played several hands of casino. Tiring of that, we turned to the books and she read aloud to me from Keats. Never has _The Eve of St. Agnes_ sounded better to me. Evening fell, and we were preparing to take yet another meal--a meat pie, which William assured us was one of his culinary triumphs--when the door burst open and Judge Pursuivant came in. "You've been together all the time?" he asked us at once. "Why, yes," I said. "Is that correct, Miss Susan? You've been in the house, every minute?" "That is right," she seconded me. "Then," said the judge. "You two are cleared, at least." He paused, looking from Susan's questioning face to mine, then went on: "That rending beast-thing in the Croft got another victim, not more than half an hour ago. O'Bryant was feeling better, ready to get back on duty. His deputy-brother, anxious to get hold of Wills first, for glory or vengeance, ventured into the place, just at dusk. He came out in a little while, torn and bitten almost to pieces, and died as he broke clear of the cedar hedge." _11. "To Meet that Monster Face to Face!"_ I think that both Susan and I fairly reeled before this news, like actors registering surprize in an old-fashioned melodrama. As for Judge Pursuivant, he turned to the table, cut a generous wedge of the meat pie and set it, all savory and steaming, on a plate for himself. His calm zest for the good food gave us others steadiness again, so that we sat down and even ate a little as he described his day in town. He had found opportunity to talk to Susan in private, confiding in her about me and finally sending her to me; this, as he said, so that we would convince each other of our respective innocences. It was purely an inspiration, for he had had no idea, of course, that such conviction would turn out so final. Thereafter he made shift to enter the Gird house and talk to Doctor Zoberg. That worthy he found sitting somewhat limply in the parlor, with John Gird's coffin in the next room. Zoberg, the judge reported, was mystified about the murder and anxious to bring to justice the townsfolk--there were more than one, it seemed--who had beaten him. Most of all, however, he was concerned about the charges against me.