The three departed, and then the sisters-in-law left the room and went upstairs, Minna making no resistance to Janet’s suggestions. Left alone with the dead, Doctor Varian and young Landon looked at each other. “What does it all mean?” asked the younger man, a look of absolute bewilderment on his face. “I can’t make it out,” returned the other, slowly. “But it’s a pretty awful situation. Now the women are gone, I’ll speak out the thing that troubles me most. Where’s Betty?” “Who? Miss Varian? Why, yes, where is she? She came for her camera, you know. She—why, she must be in the house.” “She must be,—that is,—I can’t see any alternative. I understand there’s no way out of this house, save down the path we took.” “No other, sir.” “Then if the girl’s in the house,—she must be found.” “Yes,——” and Landon saw the terrible fear in the other’s eyes, and his own glance responded. “Shall we search the rooms?” “That must be done. Now, I’m not willing to leave the body of my brother unattended. Will you watch by it, while I run over the house, or the other way about?” “I’ll do as you prefer I should, Doctor Varian,—but if you give me a choice, I’ll stay here. I’ve never been in the house before, and I don’t know the rooms. However, I want to be frank,—and, the truth is, I’d rather not make that search,—even if I did know the rooms.” “I understand, Mr Landon, and I don’t blame you. I’ve never been in the house before either,—and I don’t at all like the idea of the search, but it must be made,—and made at once, and it’s my place to do it. So, then, if you’ll remain here, I’ll go the rounds.” Ted Landon nodded silently, and sat down to begin the vigil he had been asked to keep. Herbert Varian went first upstairs to Minna’s room, and opening the door softly, discovered the widow was lying quietly on her bed. Janet, sitting by, placed a warning forefinger against her lip, and seeing that the patient was quiet, Varian noiselessly closed the door and tiptoed away. He stood a moment in the second story hall, looking upward at a closed door, to which a narrow and winding staircase would take him. Should he go up there,—or search the two lower stories first? He looked out of a window at the foot of the little stair. It gave West, and afforded no view of the sea. But the wild and inaccessible rocks which he saw, proved to him finally that there was no way of approach to this lonely house, save by that one and only path he had already climbed. He sighed, for this dashed his last hope that Betty might have left the house on some errand or some escapade before her father had reached it. With vague forebodings and a horrible sinking at his heart, he began to ascend the turret stair. CHAPTER IV The Search