ar what I have got to say?" the housekeeper asked.

"There can be no harm in that," he admitted. "Go on."

She took him at his word.

"When you called at our house," she began, "did you notice the doors in
the passage, on the first floor? Very well. One of them is the door
of the drawing-room, and the other is the door of the library. Do you
remember the drawing-room, sir?"

"I thought it a large well-lighted room," Mr. Rayburn answered. "And I
noticed a doorway in the wall, with a handsome curtain hanging over it."

"That's enough for our purpose," the housekeeper resumed. "On the other
side of the curtain, if you had looked in, you would have found the
library. Suppose my master is as polite as usual, and begs to be excused
for not receiving you, because it is an inconvenient time. And suppose
you are polite on your side and take yourself off by the drawing-room
door. You will find me waiting downstairs, on the first landing. Do you
see it now?"

"I can't say I do."

"You surprise me, sir. What is to prevent us from getting back softly
into the library, by the door in the passage? And why shouldn't we use
that second way into the library as a means of discovering what may be
going on in the drawing-room? Safe behind the curtain, you will see him
if he behaves uncivilly to Mrs. Zant, or you will hear her if she calls
for help. In either case, you may be as rough and ready with my master
as you find needful; it will be he who has frightened her, and not you.
And who can blame the poor housekeeper because Mr. Rayburn did his
duty, and protected a helpless woman? There is my plan, sir. Is it worth
trying?"

He answered, sharply enough: "I don't like it."

The housekeeper opened the door again, and wished him good-by.

If Mr. Rayburn had felt no more than an ordinary interest in Mrs. Zant,
he would have let the woman go. As it was, he stopped her; and, after
some further protest (which proved to be useless), he ended in giving
way.

"You promise to follow my directions?" she stipulated.

He gave the promise. She smiled, nodded, and left him. True to his
instructions, Mr. Rayburn reckoned five minutes by his watch, before he
followed her.

XII.

THE housekeeper was waiting for him, with the street-door ajar.

"They are both in the drawing-room," she whispered, leading the way
upstairs. "Step softly, and take him by surprise."

A table of oblong shape stood midway between the drawing-room walls. At
the e