"Did I?" said Joad, suddenly conveying a vacant expression into his eyes. "I do not remember, Miss Dora. If I did, I was not thinking of what I was saying." "You are wilfully deceiving me, Mr. Joad." "Why should I, Miss Dora? If I knew anything about this lady I would tell you willingly; but it so happens that I know nothing." "You spoke as though you knew a good deal, retorted Dora angrily. "I spoke at random, young lady. And if you--why, what's the matter with Julian?" It was little wonder that he asked the question, for Edermont had opened his window again, and was hanging out of it crying and gesticulating like some terrible Punch. "Lambert! Lambert!" he shrieked. "Come and help me! He will kill me--kill me!" Joad shuffled towards the house as quickly as his old legs could take him. He was followed by the astonished Dora, and they were about to step into the entrance-hall, when Allen Scott came flying down the stairs. He was wild-eyed, breathless, and as gray in hue as the clothes he wore. "Allen!" cried Dora, recoiling at his mad looks, "what is the matter?" "Don't stop me, for God's sake!" said the doctor hoarsely, and avoiding her outstretched hand, he fled hastily down the garden-path. A click of the gate, which had not been locked by Joad, and he vanished from their sight. Dora stared at Joad; he looked back at her with a malicious grin at the flight of her lover, and overhead, at the open window, they heard the hysterical sobbing of Julian Edermont. CHAPTER III. TO EVERY MAN HIS OWN FEAR. After a pause of astonishment at the inexplicable flight of her lover, Dora ran upstairs to the room of Mr. Edermont. It was imperative that she should learn the truth of this disturbance, and, in the absence of Dr. Scott, her guardian was the proper person to explain the matter. Had Dora glanced back at Joad, who followed closely, she might have gathered from his malignant expression that he was likely also to afford an explanation; but in her anxiety she went directly to the door of Mr. Edermont's bedroom. It was wide open, and the occupier was still sobbing by the open window. "What is the matter?" cried Dora, hurrying forward. "Why has Allen----" Edermont lifted up a white face wet with tears, and flung out two thin hands with a low cry of terror. Then, with a sudden anxiety in his eyes, he staggered rather than walked across the room, and closed the door sharply. Joad had already entered, and, still hugging a book, stood looking grimly at the swaying figure of his patron. With his back to the door, Edermont interrogated his ward and his friend. "Has he gone? Is the gate closed--is it locked and barred?" "He has gone, and the gate is safe," said Joad, for Dora was too astonished by the oddity of these questions to reply.