en
emphatically right. Sir Walter repeated this conviction to himself again
and again, like a child.

He descended to details presently. The hidden being, that it had been
implicitly agreed could only operate by night in the Grey Room, proved
equally potent under noonday sun. But why should it be otherwise? To
limit its activities was to limit its powers, and the Almighty alone
knew what powers had been granted to it. He shrank from further
inquiries or investigations on any but a religious basis. He was now
convinced that no natural explanation would exist for what had happened
in the Grey Room, and he believed that only through the paths of
Christian faith would peace return to him or his house.

Then the present dropped out of his thoughts. They wandered into the
past, and he concerned himself with his wife. She it was who had taught
him to care for foreign travel. Until his marriage he had hardly left
England, save when yachting with friends, and an occasional glimpse of a
Mediterranean port was all that Sir Walter knew of the earth outside his
own country. But he remembered with gratitude the opportunities won from
her. He had taken her round the world, and found himself much the richer
in great memories for that experience.

He was still thinking when Mary found him, with his old dog asleep at
his feet. She brought him a coat and umbrella, for the threatened storm
advanced swiftly under clouds laden with rain. Reluctantly enough he
returned to the present. A telegram had been received from London,
directing Dr. Mannering to reach the nearest telephone and communicate
direct. The doctor was gone to Newton Abbot, and nothing could be done
until he came back. Not knowing what had occupied Sir Walter's mind,
Mary urged him to leave Chadlands without delay.

"Put the place into the hands of the police and take me with you," she
said. "Nothing can be gained by our stopping, and, after this, it is
certain the authorities will not rest until they have made a far more
searching examination than has ever yet been carried out. They will feel
this disaster a challenge."

"Thankfully I would go," he answered. "Most thankfully I would avoid
what is hanging over my head. It was terrible enough when your dear
husband died; but now we shall be the centre of interest to half
England. Every instinct cries to me to get out of it, but obviously that
is impossible, even were I permitted to do so. It is the duty of the
police to s