"Not very old--fat, fairish, rather bald, with a round face and a long nose. Mrs Parham is quite young, about twenty-six, and people call her good-lookin', but myself I'm no judge o' women. I've my missus, and she's the best-lookin' of 'em all in my eyes. Of course, Mrs Parham dresses smartly, and drives in a fine carriage. She comes to the Saturday concerts sometimes." "You don't like Parham," I said. "Come, tell the truth." "No, I don't," he declared, after a slight hesitation. "He's a wrong 'un--I know that. Only, of course, that's strictly between you and me," he added in confidence. "I'd like to know your sister," I said, quite frankly. "I'll make it worth her while if she'll ask me in and let me see the house. She might do it when her mistress is out." He shook his head dubiously. "I don't think she'd let a stranger see inside, sir." "Well, there's no harm in trying. Will you take me and introduce me?" I asked. "Take me this evening. When do you go off duty?" "In about half an hour." "Then we'll walk down there and call," I suggested. "Here's my card," and I handed him the card of a barrister friend of mine which bore an address in the Temple. He hesitated, but when he found another half-sovereign in his palm he consented, not, however, without a good deal of curiosity as to my real object. What he had told me regarding the Parhams, in addition to that strange scene I had witnessed from the roadway, aroused my suspicion. I somehow felt confident that there was some connection between this man who ill-treated his wife so brutally and the unfortunate victim of the tragedy in rural Sussex I waited in a neighbouring bar until Laking came off duty, and then we walked together down Sydenham Hill to the house called Keymer. My companion entered by the tradesmen's lych-gate, and going up to the kitchen door, rapped at it, whereupon a big buxom woman in an apron opened it, and recognising him, gasped,-- "Oh! 'Arry, I'm so glad you've come! They told you about it, I suppose?" "About what? I don't know anything," he replied, surprised at her white, scared face and the terrified look of one of the maids who stood behind her. "Then go into the drawin'-room and look! It's awful. There's a curse on this 'ouse. Go and see for yourself." Startled, he hurried quickly through the kitchen and along the big, well-furnished hall, I following closely behind him, eager and bewildered. And what we saw was amazing. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. TELLS OF ANOTHER MYSTERY. In the drawing-room a startling scene presented itself. Lying in a heap across the blue silk-covered sofa lay the figure of the lady whom I had seen from without, seated at the piano, while beside her were the gardener and a scared female servant bending over her, and trying to restore her to consciousness.