"Ah, sir, you make me remember what I had forgotten. I am old; forgive me. It was this, also, that was in my mind when I said there were strange things I could not understand. It happened two years ago. Mademoiselle had left nearly half the dose in the glass, and had gone to bed. I took it up and tasted it; it was as water in my mouth, and--I do not know why--I drank what remained. 'It is not likely to harm me,' I thought, 'for it does not harm mademoiselle.' I went to bed and slept soundly. In the morning when I awoke it was with a strange feeling. I had some things to do; I could not remember what they were. I dressed myself and sat in my chair as helpless as a babe. The clock struck more than once, and still I sat there, trying to think what it was I had to do. At last the clock struck twelve, and I started to my feet, as though I had just woke out of a waking sleep, and went about my work as usual." Ronald did not continue his questions; his attention seemed to be drawn to another matter; his head was bent forward, in the attitude of listening. I do not recollect what it was that Rivers said at this point, but he had spoken a few words when Ronald cried: "Be silent!" His voice was agitated, and the same feeling of expectation stole upon me as I had experienced before the female in her white nightdress opened her bedroom window and stretched out her arms toward us. "Mme. Bernstein," said Ronald then, "the young lady we have been speaking of is a musician." "Yes, sir." "She plays in the night sometimes." "I have heard her, sir, on two or three occasions." "The instrument she plays on is the zither." "Yes, sir." "She is playing at the present moment." "If you say so, sir. My hearing is not so good as yours." "It is Beatrice who is playing," said Ronald, and his tone now was very quiet. "I knew she was not dead, and that we should meet again." CHAPTER XXIX. DR. COOPER IS IMPRESSED. These startling words caused us to throw aside the restraint we had placed upon our movements. We darted forward to the gate, from which spot we could just catch the faint sounds of music. The truth burst upon me like a flash of light. The mystery of Beatrice's supposed death was made clear to me, and the unspeakable villainy of which Mr. Nisbet was guilty was revealed. But alas for poor Barbara, who was eagerly waiting to embrace her sister Molly! Mme. Bernstein joined us at the gate, and cautioned us to be careful not to speak aloud. We removed to a safe distance, and were about to discuss our plans and decide upon our course of action when Ronald settled the matter for us. "Mme. Bernstein," he said, addressing her, "the lady is a dear friend of mine; she was to have been my wife. A foul wrong has been done to her, and Providence has directed our steps here to save her. We must enter that ill-fated house to-night." "To-night!" she exclaimed. "Now--this moment," said Ronald, with decision.