wall, on the top of which grew luxurious ivy, and towards the end a low door appeared, which stood slightly open. Half thinking that it would admit him into some park where he could conceal himself, Adrian, with no very definite purpose in his mind, pushed it wide open and entered.

He found himself in dense darkness, standing in a path which apparently ran through a belt of beech trees whose branches meeting overhead shut out the midnight sky. With outstretched hands he carefully advanced, following the windings of the path, and carefully avoiding collision with the trunks of the tall trees on either side. At last he emerged into a wide lawn, half ringed by dense masses of trees, while at one end stood a large house with many gables and turrets standing black against the clear sky beyond.

Adrian recognized it as one of those old country houses which still remain in Hampstead, isolating themselves in sullen pride amid their wide parks, although enclosed on all sides by rows of red-brick villas and desirable residences. The long drive, the frightful excitement through which he had passed, and the dampness of the night were all telling on him physically, and he longed to find some place where he could lie down and rest. With this idea he stole across the lawn towards the house, and on turning the corner of a great beech tree which stood high up in a little knoll, he saw a bright light shining through an open French window. With stealthy steps and bated breath, he stepped up to it, keeping in the shadow beyond the stream of light, and on looking through espied a large comfortably-furnished apartment, with a man seated in a chair near a table covered with a white table-cloth, on which was spread a comfortable supper. Hardly knowing what he was doing, but only anxious to have someone to talk to and relieve his overburdened mind, Adrian boldly stepped into the room, a tall, sombre figure with muddy boots and wet with rain.

"Sir," said Lancaster, taking off his hat, "will you permit me to—"

Suddenly he broke off his speech with a low cry for the figure in the chair, that of an old man wrapped in a comfortable dressing-gown did not stir, but remained in the same position with still limbs and closed eyes. Adrian at first thought he was asleep, but his case was too urgent to permit him remaining till the man awoke, so stepping forward he touched him on the shoulder. To his dismay, the figure did not stir, and on looking closely at the still face, the closed eyes, and the rigid limbs, Lancaster saw that he was dead. This fearful sight in connection with the horrors he had 

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