It began to be realized, whispered and hinted at in the newspapers that a young and rising barrister of good family, named Mr. Guy Rathbone, of the Inner Temple, had suddenly vanished. It was but a year or two before that the whole of the country had been thrilled by the sad case of Miss Hickman. The event and the excitement it had raised at the time were still fresh in the public mind; and when it began to be rumoured that something even more sensational than that had taken place, the Press began to be on the alert. In ten days' time such as were known of the facts of Mr. Guy Rathbone's apparent departure from ordinary life had become the topic of the hour. The newspapers were filled with columns of surmises. Hour by hour, as the evening papers of London and the provinces appeared, new theories, clues, explanations filled the leader pages and the contents' bills. The "Rathbone Mystery," as it was called, absorbed the whole interest of the country. An announcement of war would have been momentarily disregarded by the man in the street, while he yet remained unsatisfied as to the truth about the young gentleman who seemed to have been utterly wiped out from the world of men and women, to have vanished into thin air without a trace of his movements or a single clue as to his whereabouts. All that was accurately known was summed up again and again in the Press and in general conversation, and it amounted to just this and no more. Mr. Guy Rathbone was in fairly prosperous circumstances; he had an income of his own, was slowly but steadily climbing the laborious ladder of the Bar, was popular in society, and, as far as could be ascertained, had no troubles of any sort whatever. It was shown that Rathbone was not in debt, and practically owed nothing whatever, except the ordinary current accounts, which he was accustomed to settle every quarter. He had a fair balance at the bank, and his securities, which provided him with his income, were intact. His life had been a singularly open one. His movements had never suggested anything secret or disreputable. His friends were all people in good circumstances, and no one had ever alleged any shady acquaintances against him. He was in perfect health, was constantly in the habit of taking exercise at the German Gymnasium, still played football occasionally, and held a commission in the Inns of Court Volunteers. He had never been observed to be downcast or despondent in any way. In short, there was no earthly reason, at any rate upon the surface, for a voluntary withdrawal on his part from the usual routine of his life.