“I don’t know myself,” said Landon. “County Sheriff, more likely. But Clark’s a good, sensible sort. Say we send him down to the village——” “Oh, must it be known down there right away?” cried Claire. “Before even Mrs Varian is told! Or Betty. Where is Betty?” “Betty is somewhere in the house,” said Doctor Varian in a low voice. “We know that. Now, let that question rest, till we decide on our first move. I think, Landon, you’d better do as I said. Go and tell my wife, and, while she’s telling Mrs Varian and my daughter, Eleanor, you can take Mr Clark aside and tell him. Then,—then, I think, you’d all better come back here to the house. We’ll send Clark on that errand later,—or, we can telephone.” Landon started on his difficult descent and on his even more difficult errand. “Can’t you,—can’t you put Mr Varian somewhere—somewhere——“ Claire began, incoherently. “I’m not supposed to move a body until the authorities give permission,” said Doctor Varian, slowly. “It would seem to me, that in this very peculiar and unusual case, that I might,—but, that’s just it. I’ve been thinking,—and the very mysteriousness of this thing, makes it most necessary for me to be unusually circumspect. Why, Mrs Blackwood, have you any idea what we have ahead of us? I can’t think this mystery will be simple or easily explained. I don’t——” “What do you think——” “I don’t dare think! Isn’t there a phrase, ‘that way madness lies’? Well, it recurs to me when I let myself think! No,—I won’t think,—and I beg of you, don’t question me! I’m not a hysterical woman,—but there are times when a man feels as if hysterics might be a relief!” “Then let’s not think,——” said Claire, tactfully, “but let me try to be helpful. If Mrs Varian is coming here,—do you advise that we—cover—Mr Varian with——” “With a sheet, I suppose,—do you know where to find one?” “No, I’ve never been upstairs,—and then, after all, isn’t a sheet even more gruesome than the sight as it is at present? How about a dark cover?” “Very well,—find one.” The Doctor spoke absorbedly, uncaring. Glancing about, Claire noticed a folded steamer rug, on the end of the big davenport in the hall, and fetching that, she laid it lightly over the still form. “Now, about Betty,——” said the doctor, coming out of his brown study. “She is in the house,—probably hiding,—from fear,——” “Oh, do you think that? Then let us find her!” “We can’t both go. Will you remain here and meet the others or shall I stay here while you go to look for the girl?” Claire Blackwood pondered. Either suggestion was too hard for her to accept. “I can’t,——” she said, at last. “I’m a coward, I suppose,—but I can’t search this great, empty house,—for Betty. And, if she were in it, she would surely come here to us,——” Doctor Varian looked at her. “Then I’ll go,” he said, simply. “You stay here.”