all terribly anxious about him; we fear that his horse has thrown him, as it came back riderless this morning. If you will go away now and come later I may have tidings for you."
There was a vague hope in my mind that the woman might be a lunatic; the best thing was to get her quietly out of the house and warn the servants on no account to re-admit her.
"Dr. Ogilvie is out," I repeated; "I have no object in keeping the truth from you."
She looked startled for a moment when I spoke of a possible accident, but soon the old toss of the head re-asserted itself.
"Oh," she said, "you nearly took me in, but I'm too old to be gulled. I'll wait here for Dr. Ogilvie until he comes back. I gave him forty-eight hours, and the time's up: he was expecting me this morning. You send someone in to light the fire, young man, and I wouldn't object to a bit of breakfast."
There was nothing whatever for it but to humour the woman. Whether mad or sane she would not leave the house without making a disturbance. She was strong enough to fight, and she certainly seemed to have sufficient nerve to offer physical resistance if necessary.
"Very well," I said, after a pause, "if you won't go I will leave you here."
I went back into the hall, where one of the maid-servants was hovering restlessly about.
"Do you think you can get her to leave, sir?" she asked.
"No," I replied; "she insists upon waiting to see your master."
"She hints very queer things, sir," continued the servant.
"I don't want to hear them," I answered, impatiently. "It is more than probable that the woman is deranged. Has she been here before?"
"Two days ago, sir, and just about this hour, too. She was shut up with my master in his consulting-room for a long time. We all noticed how changed Dr. Ogilvie looked after that. He seemed to turn old all of a sudden. We all saw it."
"Well," I said, "you had better take the woman some breakfast. And please don't listen to a word she says, for I do not think she is accountable."
These remarks had scarcely passed my lips, and the servant had not attempted to obey my directions, before a sound of heavy footsteps in the street caused us both to turn pale. I rushed to the hall door and opened it.
"A figure covered with a sheet."
Several men bearing a burden on a shutter were ascending the steps. A motionless figure, covered with a sheet, lay on the shutter. The men, without uttering a word, brought it straight into the house. Dr. Roper accompanied them.
"Come in here," he said, and they carried their burden into the spacious dining-room and laid it on the centre table.
"Make no noise," whispered the doctor hoarsely to them; "go quietly away."
Then he turned to me.
