ox.

Katrine D'Enghien alone remained unmoved, with her head turned towards
the door.

CHAPTER THREE.

ONE GUARDIAN OF THE TREASURE.

Paul Capel was the first to recover from the surprise, and to hurry from
the darkened room, followed by Artis and the late Colonel's solicitor,
though it was into no blaze of light, for the staircase was equally
gloomy.

The source of the strange noise was not far to seek, for, as they
reached the landing, they became aware that a fierce struggle was going
on in the direction of the room occupied by the late Colonel, and
hurrying there, it was to find two men locked together, one of whom was
succeeding in holding the other down, and wresting his neck from the
sinewy hands which had torn off his white cravat.

"Why, Charles! Ramo!" exclaimed Mr Girtle, in the midst of the hoarse,
panting sounds uttered by the contending men.

"He's mad!" cried the former, in a high-pitched tone, in which a man's
rage was mingled with a schoolboy's whimpering fear. "He's mad, sir.
He tried to strangle me."

"Thief! dog!" panted the old Hindoo, with his dark features convulsed
with passion. "Wanted--rob--his master!"

The two young men had separated the combatants, who now stood up, the
footman, his vest and shirt torn open, and his coat dragged half off--
the old man with one sleeve of his dark silk robe gone, and the back
rent to the waist, while there was a fierce, vindictive look in his
working features, as he had to be held to keep him from closing with the
footman again.

"What does this mean, Charles?" cried Mr Girtle, as the butler and the
other servants came hurrying up, while the three Italians also stood
upon the landing, looking wonderingly on.

"If you please, sir, I don't know," said the footman, in an ill-used
tone. "I was just going by the Colonel's door, and I thought, as was
very natural, that I should like to see what these gentlemen had done,
when Mr Ramo sprang at me like a wild cat."

"No, no!" cried the old Indian, whose English in his rage and excitement
was less distinct, "a thief--come to rob--my dear lord--a thief!"

"I hope, sir," said the footman, growing calmer and looking in an
injured way at Mr Girtle, "you know me better than that, sir. Mr
Preenham here will tell you I've cleaned the plate regular all the ten
years I've been here."

The old solicitor turned to the butler.

"Yes, sir; Charles's duty has been to clean the plate, but it is in my
cha