"Their chief is here now, and of course his orders go before mine. Besides, after what you have told me, I consider there ought to be a thorough search," added Mr. Ravensworth. "In opposition to Lord Level?" "I think that Lord Level has not taken a sufficiently serious view of the case. The only solution I can come to is, that some escaped madman got into the house before it was closed for the night, and concealed himself in it. If so, he may be in it now." "Now! In it now!" she exclaimed, turning pale. "Upon my word, I think it may be so. The doors and windows were all found safely fastened, you see. Therefore he could not escape during the night. And since the doors were opened this morning, the household, I take it, has been so constantly on the alert, that it might be an extremely difficult matter for him to get away unseen. If he, this madman, did enter yesterday evening, he must have found some place of concealment and hidden himself in it for hours, since it was not until one o'clock that he made the attack on Lord Level." "Oh, Arnold, that is all too improbable," she rejoined doubtingly. "A madman could not plan and do all that." "Madmen are more cunning than sane ones, sometimes." "But I--I think it was a woman," said Lady Level, lowering her voice and her eyes. Mr. Ravensworth looked at her. And for the first time, a feeling flashed into his mind that Lady Level had some suspicion which she would not speak of. "Blanche," he said sharply, "do you know who it was? Tell me, if you do." "I do not," she answered emphatically. "I may imagine this and imagine that, but I do not know anything." "You were speaking, then, from imagination?" "Y--es. In a case of mystery, such as this, imagination runs riot, and you can't prevent its doing so." Again there was something about Lady Level that struck Mr. Ravensworth as being not honestly true. Before more could be said, steps were heard approaching the room; and Lady Level, afraid to meet the police, made her escape from it. Running swiftly upstairs, she was passing Lord Level's door to enter her own, when she heard his voice, speaking collectedly, and peeped in. He saw her, and held out his hand. He appeared now quite rational, though his fine gray eyes were glistening and his fair face was flushed. Mrs. Edwards was standing by the bedside, and it was to her he had been talking. Blanche advanced timidly. "Are you feeling better?" she softly asked. "Oh, much better; nearly well: but for my knee I should be up and about," he answered, as he drew her towards him. "Mrs. Edwards, will you close the door? I wish to speak with my wife." Mrs. Edwards, with a warning glance at her lady, which seemed to say, "He is not fit for it"--at least Blanche so interpreted it--went out and shut the door. Lord Level drew her closer to his side. He was lying propped up by a mound of pillows, almost sitting up in bed, and kept her standing there.