Having cleaned myself, I proceeded to dress the wound on my head, my own medical knowledge standing me in good stead, and when I had satisfactorily bandaged it and put on a dry suit of clothes, I groped about through the several small rooms which were my home. Nothing seemed disarranged, nothing missing--only the woman who had ever been so faithful to me and had treated me as tenderly in my helplessness as though I had been her own son. In impatience I took a cigar, lit it, and sat down to wait. No doubt, when she returned I should find that she had been absent upon some errand connected with her not-over-extensive _cuisine_. The thought grew upon me that my promise to the mysterious Edna, whoever she might be, was a rashly foolish one, and must result in some very serious _contretemps_ for me. I had willingly given up my liberty of action and become the instrument of a person who had, without doubt, imposed upon me. It seemed most probable, now that I reflected, that she was acting in concert with the man who had so cleverly practised deception upon me and led me to believe that he was a police-constable. That man, it now seemed plain, had followed me from the house of mystery, allowed me to wander sufficiently far to lose my bearings, and then got on in front of me so that I might approach and accost him. The whole affair had been carried out with amazing ingenuity, and every precaution had apparently been taken to conceal the remarkable tragedy. Yet the chief feature of the affair which puzzled me was the motive in endeavouring to take my life in that cellar beside the Thames. I had surely harmed no one, and, being utterly ignorant of the house wherein the affair had taken place, and also knowing me to be blind, they certainly could not fear any revelations that I might make. It was an enigma which I strove in vain to solve. My gloomy thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a latch-key in the outer door, and as I rose old Mrs Parker entered with an expression of profound surprise. "Why, sir?" she cried. "I understood that you'd gone away into the country!" "Into the country?" I echoed. "Who told you so?" "The lady you sent to tell me." "Lady? What lady?" I inquired, amazed. "Surely, Parker, you've taken leave of your senses?" "The lady came about an hour ago, sir, and said that you had sent her to tell me that you would be absent for perhaps a week or so--that you had gone down to your uncle's in Hampshire." "I've sent no one," I responded, astounded at this fresh phase of the affair. "What kind of lady was she--old or young?" "Middle-aged." "Well-dressed?"