Ferrara's address.

His thoughts persistently turned to Myra Duquesne, who at that moment
would be lying listening for the slightest sound from the sick-room;
who would be fighting down fear, that she might do her duty to her
guardian--fear of the waving phantom hands. The cab sped through the
almost empty streets, and at last, rounding a corner, rolled up the
tree-lined avenue, past three or four houses lighted only by the
glitter of the moon, and came to a stop before that of Sir Michael
Ferrara.

Lights shone from the many windows. The front door was open, and light
streamed out into the porch.

"My God!" cried Cairn, leaping from the cab. "My God! what has
happened?"

A thousand fears, a thousand reproaches, flooded his brain with
frenzy. He went racing up to the steps and almost threw himself upon
the man who stood half-dressed in the doorway.

"Felton, Felton!" he whispered hoarsely. "What has happened? Who--"

"Sir Michael, sir," answered the man. "I thought"--his voice
broke--"you were the doctor, sir?"

"Miss Myra--"

"She fainted away, sir. Mrs. Hume is with her in the library, now."

Cairn thrust past the servant and ran into the library. The
housekeeper and a trembling maid were bending over Myra Duquesne, who
lay fully dressed, white and still, upon a Chesterfield. Cairn
unceremoniously grasped her wrist, dropped upon his knees and placed
his ear to the still breast.

"Thank God!" he said. "It is only a swoon. Look after her, Mrs. Hume."

The housekeeper, with set face, lowered her head, but did not trust
herself to speak. Cairn went out into the hall and tapped Felton on
the shoulder. The man turned with a great start.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Is Sir Michael--?"

Felton nodded.

"Five minutes before you came, sir." His voice was hoarse with
emotion. "Miss Myra came out of her room. She thought someone called
her. She rapped on Mrs. Hume's door, and Mrs. Hume, who was just
retiring, opened it. She also thought she had heard someone calling
Miss Myra out on the stairhead."

"Well?"

"There was no one there, sir. Everyone was in bed; I was just
undressing, myself. But there was a sort of faint perfume--something
like a church, only disgusting, sir--"

"How--disgusting! Did _you_ smell it?"

"No, sir, never. Mrs. Hume and Miss Myra have noticed it in the house
on other nights, and one of the maids, too. It was very strong, I'm
told, last night. Well, sir, as they stood by the do