el he was standing in the road waiting for me.

"Good morning, Mr. Ewart," he said, coming forward to offer me his
hand. "Is there anything the matter with Miss McLeod?"

"She's not very well," I replied. "She has something the matter with
her eyes. It was very good of you to let us win our little race. Every
little pleasure that we can give Miss McLeod just at this time is of
great value to us."

"Eyes?" said Hilderman, thoughtfully, with the same dreamy expression
that Dennis had pointed out at King's Cross. "What sort of thing is
it? I know something about eyes."

"I'm afraid I can tell you nothing," I replied. "She has suddenly lost
her sight in the most amazing and terrible manner. We are just taking
her up to London to see a specialist."

"Had she any pain?" he asked, "or any dizziness or fainting, or
anything like that?"

"No," I said; "there is absolutely nothing to go by. It is a most
extraordinary affair, and a very terrible blow to us all."

"It must be," he said gently, "very, very terrible. I have heard so
much about Miss McLeod that I even feel it myself. I am deeply grieved
to hear this, deeply grieved." He spoke very sympathetically, and I
felt that it was very kind of him to take such a friendly interest in
his unknown neighbour.

"I think you'd better join me in a brandy and soda, Mr. Ewart," he
said, laying a hand on my arm. "I don't suppose you know it, but you
look ten years older than you did yesterday."

Yesterday! Good heavens! Had all this happened in a day? I was
certainly feeling far from myself, and I accepted his invitation
readily enough. We turned into the refreshment-room outside the
station, and I had a stiff whisky and soda, realising how far away
from London I was when the man gave me the whisky in one glass and
the soda in another.

"Tell me," said Hilderman, "if it is not very rude of me to ask, or
too painful for you to speak about, what was Miss McLeod doing when
this happened? Reading, or what?" I gave him a rough outline of the
circumstances, but, in view of what the General had told me the night
before, I said nothing about the mystery of the green ray. We wanted
to retain our reputation for sanity as long as we could, and no
outsider who did not know the General personally would believe that
his astonishing experience was anything other than the strange
creation of a nerve-wrought brain.

"And that was all?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, that was all," I replied