Again the interminable wait; again the dead reply. He hung up the receiver. The hallucinations which swarmed through his brain taken in connection with the meaningless talk of the hotel employees made him fear an instant for his sanity. He sat down on the edge of the bed and devoted five minutes to the concentration of his mind upon the fact that he must be cool, must be steady. Else he would be of no use to any one. He must be deliberate. Then he dressed himself with complete self-possession. When he came down into the lobby he noticed with some astonishment the business-like appearance of the place for Sunday morning. The clerk glanced at him curiously as he approached. Donaldson spoke with exaggerated slowness and precision. "I wish," he said, "that you would kindly make a careful note of any messages which may come to me to-day. Your error of this morning--" He stopped as his eye caught the calendar, and its big black numeral. It read Monday, May 27. He looked from the calendar to the clerk. "Have n't you made a mistake?" Donaldson asked. "No, sir. Shall I send a boy with you to the Turkish baths, sir?" Then the truth dawned upon him; he had lost in sleep one whole precious day! And the girl-- CHAPTER XIV _Consequences_ The driver threw on his high speed after a promise that his fine would be paid and ten dollars over should they be stopped. He made the house in fifteen minutes and was lucky enough not to pass a policeman. Donaldson jumping out bade him wait for further orders. Donaldson received no response to his ring. He tried the latch and found the door locked. On a run he skirted the house to the rear. The back door was open. He pushed through into the cold kitchen, through this into the dining room, and so into the hall. There was no sign either of the servant or of the girl herself. He was now thoroughly alarmed. As he ran up the stairs he was confronted by what he took to be an old witch in a purple wrapper. She barred his way in a decidedly militant manner, her sunken black eyes flashing anger. She seemed about to spring at him. "Bien," she croaked, "qui diable are you?" He paused. "You are Marie?" he demanded. "Bien, and you?" A voice came from a room leading from the hall. "Marie, who is it? Is it Ben?" "I know not who it is," Marie shouted back; "but if he comes up another step I will tear out his eyes." "Miss Arsdale," called Donaldson, "is anything the trouble? It is I--Donaldson." "You!" Her voice, which had at first sounded weary, as the voice of one who has waited a long while, gathered strength. "It is all right, Marie," she called. "This--this is my friend." Marie relaxed and gripped the banister for support. She was weak. "I have never seen him before," she challenged. There was a movement at the door. "No, you have never seen him. Come here a moment, Marie."