head. "I wonder if I ever shall?"

"Come, come! my dear sir," said Hilderman cheerily. "You scientist
fellows have a knack of making your difficulties a little greater than
they really are, in order to get more credit for surmounting them. I
know your little ways. I'm an American, you know, professor; you can't
get me that way."

Garnesk laughed--fortunately. And again I was grateful to Hilderman
for his timely tact, for it cheered the old man immensely, and helped
me a little, too. Presently the General left the room, and Garnesk
leaned forward.

"Mr. Hilderman," he said earnestly, "do everything in your power to keep
the old man's spirits up. I can give him no hope, professionally--I
dare not. But you, a layman, can. It is difficult in the circumstances
for Mr. Ewart to give much encouragement, but I know he will do his
best."

"J. G. Hilderman is yours to command," said the American, with a bow
that included us both. And then the oculist suggested that we should
have a look at Sholto. I led the way to the coach-house with a heavy
heart. I should not have minded a mystery which would have endangered
my own life. Apart from any altruism, the personal peril would have
afforded a welcome stimulant. But this unseen horror, which stabbed in
the dark and robbed my beautiful Myra of her sight, chilled my very
soul. I climbed wearily up the wooden stair to Sholto's new den,
carrying a stable lantern in my hand, for it was getting late, and the
carefully darkened room would be as black as ink. The other two
followed close on my heels. I opened the door and called to the dog. A
faint, sickly-sweet odour met me as I did so.

"You give your dogs elaborate kennels," said Hilderman, as he climbed
the stairs, and I laughed in reply.

At that instant Garnesk stood still and sniffed the air. With a sudden
jerk he wrenched the lantern from my hand and strode into the room.
Sholto was gone. Only half his chain dangled from the hook, cut
through the middle with a pair of strong wire-nippers.

The oculist turned to us with an expression of acute interest.

"Chloroform," he said quietly.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CHEMIST'S ROCK.

By the time we gave up our hunt for Sholto that night and saw
Hilderman into the _Baltimore II._ at the landing-stage, the harvest
moon had splashed the mountain side with patches of silver in reckless
profusion. But we were in no mood for aesthetics. We applied the
moonlight to more practical pu