It was a mumbled announcement of some sort which came from the butler. Ilingsworth waited until he had retreated, and only when he was certain that but one figure had entered the room, was looking about in wonder at its apparent emptiness, did he slowly, swiftly close the door, lock it, bolt it, and finally place his back against it. Then, levelling the weapon, he extended it toward the person who had entered. "Seat yourself at that desk," he commanded, a dangerous note in his voice; "and don't make any outcry, or I'll----" He stopped short and lowered his weapon. "Why--I----" he stammered, growing red-faced as he spoke. It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him--a girl full-throated and full-bosomed, and upon whom the gods had conferred that dazzling of all dazzling charms: light hair and dark brown eyes. Fascinating she was even to Ilingsworth, bewildering, too, as she gazed upon him in sudden fear, her eyes widening, her lips parted. "I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, consternation making it difficult for him to speak. "I was expecting quite another person--Leslie Wilkinson." Too frightened to reply the girl merely stood and gazed at him. For a moment she remained thus, and then, with the shudder of one who shakes from her some horrible nightmare, she found her voice and said: "Why, I'm Miss Wilkinson--Leslie Wilkinson!" Ilingsworth could hardly believe his ears. "You--you are Leslie Wilkinson!" he broke out. "Surely there must be some mistake. Leslie is a man's name, isn't it?" [Illustration: It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him] The girl struggled to regain her composure. Dumbfounded and confused though he was, Ilingsworth saw this, and with a hasty movement thrust the revolver behind his back. And still facing her, he retreated to a small table at the far corner of the room, and leaned against it, thus concealing the weapon. In a measure this action of his reassured the girl. Her countenance broke into a tremulous smile, though her breast rose and fell tumultuously and her breath came in gasps. "Yes," she replied in an endeavour to gain time, "Leslie is a man's name except when it happens to be a girl's name, too. My name is Leslie--I'm a girl--you see." But again terror seized her. The man before her was undoubtedly insane, she thought, and she glanced widely about the room for some avenue of escape. There was only the door, and like some startled, wild thing, she broke into a run toward it. But half way across the room she halted, throwing over her shoulder a glance of fear toward Ilingsworth, and then slowly retreated to her position at the desk. "Please don't shoot!" she pleaded. "I promise you I won't try to get away!" Slowly, cautiously, Ilingsworth stretched forth his left hand. It was evident that he did not wish to frighten the girl.