"This way," said Sir John. "Her maid and Miss Emlin are with her. We can do nothing there." Major Day made an impatient gesture, but his old discipline prevailed, and he followed his brother to the studio door, which opened upon the corridor. But it, too, was fastened, and Sir John stepped back to the bedroom door and tapped sharply. There was a rustling sound within, and the door was held ajar by Mason, whose face looked scared and drawn, while a low, piteous moan came to their ears. "Quick!" said Sir John. "Go round and open the other door. Shut this first, and admit no one, I say, but the doctor." The door was closed with a chain, and they heard the slipping back of the bolts of the little studio, Sir John waiting to give the maid time to go back into the bed-chamber before he opened the door, and entered with his brother. All was in its customary state here, but the conservatory door was open, and, upon entering there, it was to find that the window was wide, and a long strand of the wistaria lay upon the floor, as if it had been torn off by someone who had mounted from below, or else had become entangled by the climber's dress, and fallen from it when the inside of the window was reached. The major was at his brother's side, and together they looked out, holding a candle down to see plainly enough that the leaves and tender twigs of the beautiful climber that wreathed the place had been broken and torn down in several places, the big cable-like twisted main stem having evidently been utilised as a rope ladder by whoever had climbed up. The brothers looked at each other. "Her favourite creeper, Jem," said Sir John, with a groan--"her destruction." "Jack?" whispered the major, in an appealing voice. Only the one word, but so full of question that Sir John bent toward him and whispered a few words. The major turned away, and marched for the door, but his brother overtook him. "To my room." "What for?" "My pistols." "Jem!" "I'll shoot him like a dog." Sir John's hand closed tightly upon his brother's arm, and they glared at each other in silence for a few moments, while twice over there came a feeble groan through the door from the adjoining chamber. "No," said Sir John at last, with his voice trembling from emotion; "I am her father. It is my task, or her betrothed's. Jem," he whispered excitedly, "what am I to say to Rolph? Jem," he whispered again, with the hands which clung to his brother trembling violently, "you--you don't think--they were to be married to-day--he came to her window last night?" "No," said the major sternly; "give the devil his clue. It was not he."