"A common fallacy," replied the doctor, dryly, "on the part of many who misunderstand our aims. There is considerable method in our so-called madness. But Madame Death-in-Life will explain all this to you far better than I can. We shall see her very shortly." As he spoke a distinctive rap came at the door, and on the invitation to enter being given by Drabble, a tall, bulky man, shabbily dressed, with a puffy red face, entered the room. His whole appearance was suggestive of alcohol in a severe form; but at his first words, Mallow recognized that he was a man of breeding. For the present he was quite sober, and he appeared to be in a bad temper--probably, Mallow thought, as a result of his unwonted condition. "I beg your pardon, Drabble," he said in a refined voice, "I did not know you were----" "Oh, I am not engaged to the extent of excluding you," said Drabble, sharply. "This is Mr. Jeremiah Trall, Mr. Mallow." "Mr. Mallow?" echoed Trall, with a stare. (It was evident to Mallow that his thoughts straightway reverted to the report he had received from Clara.) "A new recruit," explained Drabble, looking at him sharply. "But Mr. Mallow wishes to be quite sure of our aims before he finally consents to join us." "Our aims are to make a heaven out of a hell," said Trall, taking the third chair. "That requires strong measures." "Necessarily," replied Mallow; "one doesn't clean stables with rosewater." "No, our methods are a trifle more forcible than that," chuckled Trall. "When we try this new----" "There, there," interrupted Drabble, "that is quite enough. We will not go into details just at present." Mallow could see even thus early that there was no love lost between these two. The alcoholic man scowled angrily at the doctor, and Mallow made a mental note of his attitude. He evidently stood in fear of his superior. "What is it you want?" asked Drabble, after having reduced the man to silence. "Madame wishes to see you," replied Trall, sulkily. "She did not know any one was with you." "I am bringing this gentleman down to see her very shortly," said the doctor coolly. "You can go." "One moment," cried Mallow, as Trall shuffled to his feet. "Have I ever seen you before?" "Not that I know of." "H'm. Your face seems familiar to me." "Yes, it is the face of a sot," said Drabble, brutally--"not an uncommon sight." "I have to thank you for making it so," stuttered Trall savagely. "I should not be what I am had I not come under your thumb. But take care, I may be one too many for you some day." "This is not the first time you have threatened me," said Drabble; "take you care lest I make it the last. You drunken hound, clear out!" "By the way, did you get your letter from Sandbeach?" asked Mallow of Trall, as he slouched towards the door with fierce resentment in his eyes. "Eh, what?" cried Drabble, looking sharply from one to the other. "What letter?"