"More food is to be brought to me by old Taylor at five o'clock." I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter-past four. "Why don't you go out and go away?" I suggested. "There is surely nothing to prevent you. Why do you remain here in helpless inactivity?" "Where should I go? I haven't any money. I haven't a sou. Besides-- besides--I dare not disobey. If I did, he--he'd--he'd bring disaster-- terrible disaster, upon me!" "I can lend you some money," I said. Then a thought struck me. "Why not come away with me?" I exclaimed. "I will get you a room at an hotel, see to you, provide you with money, and take care that nobody objectionable--neither this fellow Paulton, nor anybody else--molests you." "Ah, Dick, if only I dared!" she exclaimed fervently, with shining eyes. "You love me, Vera--do you not?" "You know that I do, Dick." "Then leave here. Who is to prevent you? Where are your father and mother?" She turned sharply. "How can you ask that?" she cried, with a quick glance. I pulled myself together on the instant. I was forgetting to be cautious. "Wouldn't it be safe for you to appeal to them for help?" I asked vaguely. She paused, evidently reflecting, and I breathed more freely. "Under the circumstances--no," she said at last, with decision. "They must await developments. I must remain here. Listen! What was that?" And she started in fear. The door stood ajar. The door of the room I had been in, which opened on to the passage, was also open. Both of us listened intently. The sound of men's voices, somewhere in the house, became audible. I crept out into the passage on tiptoe, walked a little distance along it, stopped, and listened again. Yes, there were voices in the hall. Two men were talking. At once I recognised that Sir Charles Thorold, and the man known as Davies, were engaged in earnest conversation in low tones. In the otherwise silent and deserted house, their words were distinctly audible. "We must get a doctor--we must," I heard the big fellow say deeply. "I thought at first the fellow was asleep, then that he was drunk. The pulse is hardly perceptible." "But how can we?" Thorold answered. "It isn't safe. There would be inquiries, and if he should die there would surely be an inquest, and then--" He dropped his voice, and I could not catch the last words. Then Davies again spoke. "I found this umbrella, and these gloves, on the table in his room," I heard him say, "and there are two tea-cups on the table. Both have been used, used within the last half-hour, I should say. The tea in them is still warm, and the teapot is quite hot." My heart stopped its beating. I put out an arm to support myself. A slight feeling of giddiness came over me. I broke out into a cold perspiration, for I had left my gloves and umbrella in the old man's room!