against my ribs.  If it should be true!  Then all of a sudden a little cry came to my lips, which Heaven knows how I stifled!  My eyes were suddenly hot.  There was a mist before them.  I could see nothing, nothing save Felicia, who had entered the room in a dressing-jacket, with her hair still down her back.  It was nothing to me, at that moment, that her eyes were round with fear, that she came as one comes who obeys the call of her master.  I was so furious with anger that I had hard work to battle with the impulse which prompted me to throw open the door and confront them both.

“Louis, is this wise?” she murmured.

“There are times,” he answered softly, “when one has to dare everything!  Listen, Felicia.”

“Yes?” she murmured.

“In a short time you will hear a soft knocking on the outside door.  Take no notice.  I shall open it.  It will be some one to see your uncle.  We shall talk in this sitting-room.  I hope that nothing will happen, but if you hear the sound of blows or voices take no notice.  Remain in your room till everything is quiet.  Presently, if all is well, I shall knock three times on your door.  I may need your help.”

“Very well,” she answered.  “And if you do not knock?”

He handed her a slip of paper.

“You have a telephone in your room,” he said.  “Ring up the number you will find there, and simply repeat the words which I have written.”

“Is that all?” she asked.

“That is all.”

“Louis,” she said,—­then she pointed in my direction,—­“may I not go in just for one minute?”

“No!” he answered.  “It is not wise.”

“It seems unkind,” she said, “to keep away from him all this time if he is ill.”

“I did not know that you had so much affection for him!” Louis remarked.

“Why not?” she answered.  “He was always kind to me, in his way.”

There was a moment’s pause.  Then she spoke again, and her voice had in it a note of sharp inquiry.

“Louis, whose stick is that?” she demanded.

I raised myself a little higher.  Upon the table, close to where Louis was standing, was a thick Malacca cane which I recognized at once.

“Mine!” Louis answered shortly.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Whose did you suppose that it was?” he demanded.

“Capitaine Rotherby was carrying one just like it,” she declared.  “I noticed it in the railway carriage.”

“They are common enough,” Louis answered.  “This one, at any rate, is mine.  Hush!”

They both, for a moment, seemed to be listening intently.  Then Louis pointed to the door.

“Go back to your room,” he said, in a low whisper.  “Go back at once, and turn your key.”

She stole away.  When she was no longer in the room I could see more clearly,—­I could take account of other things!  Distinctly I could hear now the soft knocking upon the outer door!