Budd was, of course, inquisitive, but my explanation was that I had had an accident, and had fallen in the mud. My clothes were, of course, ruined, my hands grazed and torn, and across my eye was a nasty gash where I must have struck a sharp stone. My brain was awhirl, and after the doctor's departure I swallowed some brandy and lay down on the bed awaiting Eric. Had he shared the same fate? If so, to try and find him in the sewer was useless. The flush had passed, and would sweep him away to his death. Of course, I had no real proof that he had been in that house other than overhearing his voice. I recalled every word, and now more than ever was I convinced that he had been behind that closed door, held by enemies. From Budd I learned that my friend had gone out about two o'clock, and had not returned. He had, however, left me a message to say that I was not to be alarmed by his absence. He was still making inquiries, I supposed. What I had related regarding the strange affair at Sydenham Hill had puzzled him greatly. Perhaps he had gone down there. I gave my man strict instructions to say to everyone that I too was absent from home. "Tell everybody that I went out to dinner last night and have not yet returned," I said. "Express surprise and anxiety. I want to pretend to be missing--you understand, Budd?" "Yes, sir," was the man's prompt response. "You expect somebody will call and inquire, and to everyone I am to know nothing." "I went out to the club last night and haven't been seen since." "I quite understand, sir. But what about the doctor?" "He doesn't matter. The person whom I wish to believe in my absence does not know the doctor. I shall remain indoors for a day or two. Mind nobody knows I'm here." "I shall take good care of that, sir," was the man's reply; and I knew that I could trust him. I scribbled a line to Inspector Pickering explaining my inability to make the statement on account of my injured head, but promising to call in a few days. I urged him not to send to me, as my chambers were probably watched. This note I sent by express messenger. Then thoroughly exhausted I dropped off to sleep. It was evening when I awoke, but Eric had not made his appearance. I was now thoroughly alarmed. Who were the men whom he had defied in that house of mystery? He always carried a revolver, and was a dead shot; but what is a weapon against such black treachery as that to which I had been subjected? He was fearless, and would fight to the last; yet after my experience in that house I was apprehensive lest he should, like myself, have fallen a victim.