every assistance. I fancy
the poor fellow is going to recover, though I am afraid it will be a
long job."

"He hasn't recovered consciousness, then?"

"No, and neither will he for some time to come. There seems to be a
certain pressure on the brain which we are unable to locate, and we dare
not try the Roentgen rays yet. So on the whole you are likely to escape
with a charge of aggravated assault."

David smiled grimly as he went his way. He walked the whole distance to
Hove along North Street and the Western Road, finally turning down
Brunswick Square instead of _up_ it, as he had done on the night of the
great adventure. He wondered vaguely why he had been specially instructed
to approach the house that way.

Here it was at last, 219, Brunswick Square--220 above and, of course, 218
below the house. It looked pretty well the same in the daylight, the same
door, the same knocker, and the same crimson blind in the centre of the
big bay window. David knocked at the door with a vague feeling of
uncertainty as to what he was going to do next. A very staid,
old-fashioned footman answered his ring and inquired his business.

"Can--can I see your mistress?" David stammered.

The staid footman became, if possible, a little more reserved. If the
gentleman would send in his card he would see if Miss Ruth was
disengaged. David found himself vaguely wondering what Miss Ruth's
surname might be. The old Biblical name was a great favourite of his.

"I'm afraid I haven't a card," he said. "Will you say that Mr. Steel
would like to see--er--Miss Ruth for a few minutes? My business is
exceedingly pressing."

The staid footman led the way into the dining-room. Evidently this was no
frivolous house, where giddy butterflies came and went; such gaudy
insects would have been chilled by the solemn decorum of the place. David
followed into the dining-room in a dreamy kind of way, and with the
feeling that comes to us all at times, the sensation of having done and
seen the same thing before.

Nothing had been altered. The same plain, handsome, expensive furniture
was here, the same mahogany and engravings, the same dull red walls, with
the same light stain over the fire-place--a dull, prosperous,
square-toed-looking place. The electric fittings looked a little
different, but that might have been fancy. It was the identical room.
David had run his quarry to earth, and he began to feel his spirits
rising. Doubtless he could scheme some