Dr. Duncan began to suspect that there must be some cause in facts at the bottom of this fancy, that it was something more than the delusion of an unhinged brain; so he carefully listened to every word she dropped in her delirium, hoping to gather some clue to the mystery, which might enable him to take definite action against these enemies of his wife, and for once and all, remove the weight of terror from her mind. He determined that he would find out what this secret of hers was, what was this dread which was goading her to madness. To begin with, he would put detectives on the track of this Mrs. Riley--he would spare no pains or expense to discover whether Mary was the victim of a mania or of a foul conspiracy; he would no longer remain in this state of perplexity as to which it was. On Sunday afternoon Mary fell into a refreshing sleep. Her husband sat by her bedside hour after hour watching and thinking over the problem which he had set himself to solve. At last she woke with a sudden cry and looked round her with a puzzled frightened expression. Then her eyes met his, and a softer look came into them. She stretched out her arms feebly towards him and said in low half conscious tones, her mind still wandering, "Kiss me, Harry, dear;" he kissed her--she closed her eyes and continued in an intermittent dreamy way, "My love! my love! how delicious to be with you again after so long, so long--going through the green fields hand in hand with you plucking the pretty flowers. Ah! you told me of all this happiness in those dark old days in horrible London; but I never thought they would come. Do not let me go back there! Do not leave me, Harry! I am afraid!" She looked wildly around the room as she uttered the last words. "Of what, my poor little pet?" he said, clasping her in his arms. "See, I am with you--there is no cause to be afraid." "Ah! but, dear, I am afraid of all this great happiness--something will happen. See even now how clouded it is getting, and the green grass and the flowers are turning black and withering--and, oh! all those dead leaves whirling about! But I will not be afraid, I am with you. How nice to be in the fields once more with you and baby--and baby--baby! O God!" she started up in the bed, her eyes dilated and staring in a horrible fashion. "O God, my baby! oh, they have taken away my baby--Harry! Harry! where is my baby? She has got him at last, yes, she--that woman there--Susan Riley! Ah, my baby!" and her awful cry rang through the house and was even heard in the street, so that passers-by stopped and turned pale at the agony of it. "Oh, my beautiful baby! oh, give me back my baby! Pity me, Susan, I kneel before you--kill me--torture me in any way, but spare my baby! What have you done with him? Oh, do not smile that cruel smile--what do you mean? Oh, murderess! murderess!"