ents unable to speak.

I was in the corner of a bare, brown field, with a high hedgerow close
by. Around were the foundations of demolished cottages, and I was seated
upon a heap of brick-rubbish and plaster.

The two who were dressed in rough, shooting kit I took to be military
men, while three others were farm-hands, and the girl--a tall, rather
good-looking open-air girl, was dressed in a short, tweed skirt,
well-cut, a thick jacket, a soft felt hat, and heavy, serviceable boots.
No second glance was needed to show that, although so roughly dressed,
she was undoubtedly a lady.

One of the men called her Maisie, and later I knew that her name was
Maisie Morrice, that she was his sister, who had been walking with the
"guns."

My presence down the well certainly needed explanation, and as they had
rescued me, it was necessary to satisfy their natural curiosity.

"I had a curious adventure here last night," I told them, after pausing
to take breath. "I came from London to see a lady living at Melbourne
House. A lady named Petre--but I was given some drugged wine, and--well,
when I came to I found myself down there. That's all."

"A very unpleasant experience, I should say," remarked the elder of the
two sportsmen, a tall, grey-moustached man, as he surveyed me. "I suppose
you'll go back to Melbourne House and get even with the lady? I would!"

"Melbourne House!" echoed the other man. "Why, Maisie, that's where old
Miss Morgan lived, and it's been taken by some woman with an Indian
servant, hasn't it?"

"Yes," replied the girl. "She's been there a month or two, but quite a
mystery. Nobody has called on her. Mother wouldn't let me."

"Apparently she's not a very desirable acquaintance," remarked her
brother grimly.

"I want to go there," I said feebly, trying to rise.

"You seem to have hurt your head pretty badly," remarked the elder
sportsman. "I suppose you'd better go into Colchester and see the
police--eh?"

"I'll drive him in, sir," volunteered one of the men, whom I took to be
the farmer.

"Yes, Mr. Cuppin," exclaimed the girl. "Get your trap and drive this
gentleman to the doctor and the police."

"Thank you," I replied. "But I don't want the people at Melbourne House
to know that I'm alive. They believe me dead, and it will be a pretty
surprise for them when I return, after seeing the doctor. So I ask you
all to remain silent about this affair--at least for an hour or so. Will
you?"

They all a