ould hear the solemn roar of the sea dashing
against the cliffs, but there was no sound in the closed chamber. Its
stillness and hush seemed intensified by the clamour of the sea, as though
calamity were brooding in the darkness within.

"Robert, Robert!" The high pitch of Mrs. Pendleton's voice shattered the
quietude like the startling clang of an unexpected bell. "Knock again,
Thalassa, more loudly, very loudly," she cried, in the shrill accents of
tightened nerves.

Thalassa approached the door again, but recoiled swiftly. "God A'mighty!"
he hoarsely exclaimed, pointing, "what's that?"

They followed the direction of his finger to the floor, and saw a sluggish
thin dark trickle making its way underneath the door. Mr. Pendleton
stooped and examined it, but rose immediately.

"There's been trouble in there," he said, with a pale face.

"How could anybody get in?" said Thalassa sullenly. "The door is locked
from the inside, and it's two hundred feet from the windows to the bottom
of the cliffs."

"Oh, for pity's sake stop talking and do something," cried Mrs. Pendleton
hysterically. "My poor brother may be dying." She rattled the door-handle.
"Robert, Robert, what is the matter? Let me in. It is I--Constance."

"We must break in the door," said Dr. Ravenshaw. "Stand away, Mrs.
Pendleton, please. Now, Thalassa, both together."

The doctor and the servant put their shoulders to the door. Mr. Pendleton
watched them with a white face, but did not go to their assistance. At the
fourth effort there was a sound of splintering wood, the lock gave, and
the door swung back.

They peered in. At first they could see nothing. The light of the
swinging-lamp had been lowered, and the interior of the room was veiled in
shadow. Then their eyes detected a dark outline on the floor between the
table and the window--the figure of a man, lying athwart the carpet with
arms outstretched, face downwards, the spread finger-tips clutching at
some heavy dark object between the head and the arms.

Thalassa stepped across the threshold, and with shaking hand turned up the
lowered wick of the swinging lamp. The light revealed the stark form of
Robert Turold. At this sight Mrs. Pendleton broke into a loud cry and
essayed to cross the room to her brother's side.

"Keep back, Mrs. Pendleton!" cried Dr. Ravenshaw, interposing himself in
front of her. "I begged of you not to come upstairs. Mr. Pendleton, take
your wife away at once."

But M