For the next quarter of an hour the man and the woman labored hard to save Mrs. Jasher's life. Random bound up the wound in a rough and ready fashion, and Jane fed the pale lips of her mistress with sips of brandy. Mrs. Jasher gradually became more alive, and a faint sigh escaped from her lips, as her wounded bosom rose and fell with recovered breath. When Sir Frank was in hopes that she would speak, she suddenly relapsed again into a comatose state. Luckily at that moment Archie returned with young Dr. Robinson at his heels, and also was followed by Painter, the village constable, who had luckily been picked up in the fog. Robinson whistled as he looked at the insensible woman. “She's had a narrow squeak,” he muttered, lifting the body with the assistance of Random. “Will she recover?” questioned Hope anxiously. “I can't tell you yet,” answered the doctor; and with Sir Frank he carried the heavy body of the widow into her bedroom. “How did it happen?” “That is my business,” said Painter, who had followed, and who was now filled with importance. “You look after the body, sir, and I'll question these gentlemen and the servant.” “Servant yourself! Such sauce!” muttered Jane, with an angry toss of her cap at the daring young policeman. “I know nothing. I left my mistress in the parlor writing letters, and never heard anyone come in. The bell didn't sound anyhow. The first thing I knew that anything was wrong was on hearing the screams. When I looked into the parlor the candles and the lamp were out, and there was a struggle going on in the dark. Then I cried out, very naturally, I'm sure, and ran straight into the arms of these gentlemen, as soon as I could get the front door open.” After delivering this address, Jane was called away to assist the doctor in the bedroom, and along with Archie and Random the constable repaired to the pink parlor to hear what they had to say. Of course they could tell him even less than Jane had told, and Archie protested that he was quite unable to describe the man who had dashed out of the window. “Ah,” said Painter sapiently, “he got out there; but how did he enter?” “No doubt by the door,” said Random sharply. “We don't know that, sir. Jane says she did not hear the bell.” “Mrs. Jasher might have let the man in, whomsoever he was, secretly.” “Why should she, sir?” “Ah! now you are asking more than I can tell you. Only Mrs. Jasher can explain, and it seems to me that she will die.”