He pointed to the bed, and once more the poor girl, writhing in pain, uttered, in a low, pleading voice, "Herman, Herman, do not, oh! do not desert me!" Dermoyne, at a rapid glance, surveyed the culprit cringing against the wall,--the florid Madam, who stood apart, her face manifesting undeniable chagrin,--and then his gaze rested upon Corkins, who, kneeling in the corner, seemed to have been suddenly stricken dumb. And as he took that rapid glance, his eyes flashed, his face grew paler, his bosom heaved, and a world of thought rushed through his brain; and, in a moment, he had decided upon his course. He drew near to the Madam: she could not meet the look which he fixed upon her face. "To-morrow morning, at ten o'clock, I will return to this house," he said, in a low voice; "I hold you responsible for the life of this poor girl. Nay, do not speak; not a word from your accursed lips. Remember!--he drew a step nearer,--to-morrow morning, at ten o'clock, and--I hold you responsible for the life of Alice Burney." The Madam quailed before his glance; for once, her florid face grew pale. "But how will you obtain entrance into my house?" she thought; and a faint smile crossed her countenance. CHAPTER IV. THE RED BOOK. Dermoyne flung his cloak over his arm, drew his cap over his forehead, and grasped the iron bar with his right hand. "Come with me," he said, in a low voice, to Barnhurst. He drew the key from his pocket, and led the way to the door. As though fascinated by his look, Herman followed him,--followed him trembling and with terror stamped on every line of his face. "At ten o'clock, to-morrow morning, remember!" said Dermoyne, turning his face over his shoulder. He turned the key in the lock, and stood upon the threshold. "Come with me," he said, quietly, to Barnhurst. "Nay, take the light and walk before me." Herman, with a quivering hand, seized a lighted lamp and led the way from the room, along the passage. He dared not turn his head. He heard Dermoyne's footsteps at his back, and shook with fright. "Does he intend to murder me?" and then he thought of the iron bar; of the strong hand of Dermoyne; and of his own defenseless head. "Herman, don't, don't desert me," muttered Alice, in her delirium, as they crossed the threshold. Dermoyne turned and saw the fixed eyes, the sunny hair, the lips white with foam; saw the writhing form and the hands clasped madly over the half-bared bosom; and then he looked no more. Along the passage, Herman led the way and down the stairs, Dermoyne following silently at his heels. Thus they descended to the second floor. "The Madam has a room where she keeps her papers and arranges her most important affairs. Conduct me there."