nter. The visitors, having arranged their plans of amusement
for the day, were on their way out of the hotel. In a minute or two,
there was silence once more.

Henry turned to the window, thinking to relieve his mind by looking at
the bright view over the canal. He soon grew wearied of the familiar
scene. The morbid fascination which seems to be exercised by all
horrible sights, drew him back again to the ghastly object on the floor.

Dream or reality, how had Agnes survived the sight of it? As the
question passed through his mind, he noticed for the first time
something lying on the floor near the head. Looking closer, he
perceived a thin little plate of gold, with three false teeth attached
to it, which had apparently dropped out (loosened by the shock) when
the manager let the head fall on the floor.

The importance of this discovery, and the necessity of not too readily
communicating it to others, instantly struck Henry. Here surely was a
chance--if any chance remained--of identifying the shocking relic of
humanity which lay before him, the dumb witness of a crime! Acting on
this idea, he took possession of the teeth, purposing to use them as a
last means of inquiry when other attempts at investigation had been
tried and had failed.

He went back again to the window: the solitude of the room began to
weigh on his spirits. As he looked out again at the view, there was a
soft knock at the door. He hastened to open it--and checked himself in
the act. A doubt occurred to him. Was it the manager who had knocked?
He called out, 'Who is there?'

The voice of Agnes answered him. 'Have you anything to tell me, Henry?'

He was hardly able to reply. 'Not just now,' he said, confusedly.
'Forgive me if I don't open the door. I will speak to you a little
later.'

The sweet voice made itself heard again, pleading with him piteously.
'Don't leave me alone, Henry! I can't go back to the happy people
downstairs.'

How could he resist that appeal? He heard her sigh--he heard the
rustling of her dress as she moved away in despair. The very thing
that he had shrunk from doing but a few minutes since was the thing
that he did now! He joined Agnes in the corridor. She turned as she
heard him, and pointed, trembling, in the direction of the closed room.
'Is it so terrible as that?' she asked faintly.

He put his arm round her to support her. A thought came to him as he
looked at her, waiting in doubt and fear for his reply. 'You