"'Whoever you are,' said a voice, 'I warn you to open the door, or I shall tell the porter to call the police. I saw you from Chancery Lane. Come, open at once!' "I glanced at my window, the one looking into Chancery Lane. By some frightful carelessness I had neglected to pull down the blind, and thus it was possible enough for the man to have seen me. But what did he want, I wondered? "'Open at once!' said the voice again; 'or it will be the worse for you.' "I was in a fix, but my best course seemed to be to let the man in; so I asked him to wait a moment, saying I was only half dressed. I hastily donned my wig, tore off my false moustache, and put on my ordinary coat and waistcoat. Then I opened the door. "'What is the matter?' I asked. "The man walked right into the room without speaking, and looked all round it, as if he was searching for some one. Then I saw who it was. It was Morris Thornton! "'What is the matter?' he repeated after me. 'That is what I ask you to tell me, Cooper Silwood.... I arrived in London yesterday, and was taken ill. Feeling better this evening, I came out to get some fresh air, and strolled down this way. I remembered where your rooms were, and glancing up at the lighted window saw a figure passing and repassing. I was certain it was not you. This was a bald man with a moustache.... I watched him for some minutes. Then I went down to the lodge and was let in, as I said I wished to see you on urgent business. Now here I am, and here you are! Did you know about this man being here--the man I saw? He gave me quite a start.' "I did not speak immediately, being somewhat flurried by the sudden appearance of Thornton. He now came quite close to me, and peered into my face. I saw he looked ill and greatly changed, and his hands were shaking. He went on peering into my face, so that I wondered why. "'What are you doing with that paint on your cheeks?' he asked. "I had forgotten the stain on my face--the stain that was part of my disguise. This question disconcerted me. "'Was it you, Cooper Silwood, that I saw? It was! It was! What does this mean?' he demanded, visibly agitated. 'You are not the kind of man who goes to a masked ball. One would think you were practising, rehearsing some part ... a disguise ... seeing how it would do ... but why, Silwood, why? One would think there was something wrong--that you were about to abscond.' "All this he said in jerky sentences, while his cheeks turned a horrible bluish purple. I recalled he had written to us that he was suffering from heart-disease, and I was alarmed for him. "'Calm yourself, Morris,' I said to him, soothingly, but with the opposite effect. "'Explain, explain!' he cried, in tones of great excitement, his body trembling the while.