"No! No!!" replied the detective, soothingly, as he would speak to a child, "she has fainted. Bring some water." "Kill her!" whispered the man, nodding; "it's a good room to kill people in; we use it for that here. I won't tell. I'd rather see her dead than alive; it's better for her. The grave's the bed for a weary head." "Hush! Bring the water," cried Gebb, shrinking back from the horrible creature. "Be off with you!" The madman shrank back in his turn at the peremptory tone of the detective, and vanished with a nod, just as a sigh sounded through the room. The cool draught playing on the forehead of Edith had at length produced its effect, and with a second sigh longer than the first, she opened her eyes, and looked vacantly at Gebb. The detective caught her hand, and slapped it vigorously, whereat the girl sat up with an effort, and her faintness passed away. Still her brain was not quite clear, and she looked languidly at Gebb, as though she were in a dream. "What did you say?" she asked in a low voice. "Am I--have I--what is it?" and she passed a slow hand across her forehead. "You fainted, Miss Wedderburn," replied Gebb, softly. "Yes! I remember! I fainted! You asked about---- Oh, God! I know;" and she covered her eyes with one hand. Before she could speak again, a harsh, cracked voice was heard singing in the distance:-- "The raven is the fowl for me, He sits upon the gallows tree, And bravely, bravely doth he sing, In a voice so low and rich: While flaunting in a garb of pitch The murderer's corpse does gaily swing. Ho! Ho! Ha! Ha! He! He! He! The raven and the gallows tree." "Ah!" Miss Wedderburn shivered nervously as this gruesome ditty sounded nearer, and put her fingers in her ears to shut out the singing. "It is Martin with his fearful songs!" said she, softly. "Martin! And who is Martin?" asked Gebb, amazed at these extraordinary proceedings. "Martin! Martin! Mad Martin!" croaked the harsh voice; and there at the window stood the crazy man, leering in a fawning manner, and holding a tin basin half full of water. Dipping his hand into this, he sprinkled a few drops towards Edith, singing tunelessly the while:-- "Weep till tears roll as a flood, I baptise thee now with blood." With an exclamation of annoyance Edith rose, and, snatching the basin out of the man's hand, shut the window hurriedly. Martin gave a frightened whimper and slunk away; while his mistress, soaking a handkerchief in the water, bathed her pale face. Gebb, judiciously waiting the development of events, stood quietly by, wondering, but silent. "Is this a lunatic asylum, Miss Wedderburn?" he asked when she was more composed, and he judged it judicious to recommence the conversation.