For a strange figure went racing across the grass. It was that of a man in a blue dressing-gown, who held a lantern high before him, and a revolver in his right hand. Coincident with my recognition of Mr. Eltham he leaped, plunging into the shrubbery in the wake of the dog. But the night held yet another surprise; for Nayland Smith's voice came: "Come back! Come back, Eltham!" I ran out into the passage and downstairs. The front door was open. A terrible conflict waged in the shrubbery, between the mastiff and something else. Passing round to the lawn, I met Smith fully dressed. He just had dropped from a first-floor window. "The man is mad!" he snapped. "Heaven knows what lurks there! He should not have gone alone!" Together we ran towards the dancing light of Eltham's lantern. The sounds of conflict ceased suddenly. Stumbling over stumps and lashed by low-sweeping branches, we struggled forward to where the clergyman knelt amongst the bushes. He glanced up with tears in his eyes, as was revealed by the dim light. "Look!" he cried. The body of the dog lay at his feet. It was pitiable to think that the fearless brute should have met his death in such a fashion, and when I bent and examined him I was glad to find traces of life. "Drag him out. He is not dead," I said. "And hurry," rapped Smith, peering about him right and left. So we three hurried from that haunted place, dragging the dog with us. We were not molested. No sound disturbed the now perfect stillness. By the lawn edge we came upon Denby, half dressed; and almost immediately Edwards the gardener also appeared. The white faces of the house servants showed at one window, and Miss Eltham called to me from her room: "Is he dead?" "No," I replied; "only stunned." We carried the dog round to the yard, and I examined his head. It had been struck by some heavy blunt instrument, but the skull was not broken. It is hard to kill a mastiff. "Will you attend to him, Doctor?" asked Eltham. "We must see that the villain does not escape." His face was grim and set. This was a different man from the diffident clergyman we knew: this was "Parson Dan" again. I accepted the care of the canine patient, and Eltham with the others went off for more lights to search the shrubbery. As I was washing a bad wound between the mastiff's ears, Miss Eltham joined me. It was the sound of her voice, I think, rather than my more scientific ministration, which recalled Caesar to life. For, as she entered, his tail wagged feebly, and a moment later he struggled to his feet--one of which was injured. Having provided for his immediate needs, I left him in charge of his young mistress and joined the search party. They had entered the shrubbery from four points and drawn blank. "There is absolutely nothing there, and no one can possibly have left the grounds," said Eltham amazedly.