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"Yes. Your messenger, Battersea, was wandering about your grounds on that night." "Now hold your breath as long as you can," he commanded, and it fitted my mood exactly to do so. "H'm!" said Jen. "But seeing that you were so ill, was no one watching beside you?".

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David retired early to bed, as he was quite worn out with the anxieties of the day; but Jen was too grieved to sleep. He remained in the library, thinking over his great loss and wondering what wretch could have taken that young life. Toward twelve o'clock he went to the kitchen and had a short conversation with the policeman, who was a stupid, bucolic youth with no more brains than a pumpkin. Afterward he sought the chamber of death to see that Jaggard was not sleeping at his post. Finally, like the good old soldier he was, Jen went round the house to satisfy himself that the windows and doors were bolted and barred. All these things done, he returned to the library. "I know it. I sent for them." "Was he a friend of yours, doctor?" It's my duty to look the matter in the face before I look in Alfred's—and decide. If not Alfred, what then?.