But for all this there seemed to be something sadly missing in his life, a want which he could hardly define, and it seemed to take the shape of something which he was striving to remember, but could not.

Only that morning he had been talking with some one in the office about it, and had been laughingly informed that there was a method that could bring back to his memory that which he desired so ardently to recollect.  “If you will tell me how to unravel this tangle that is in my brain, you will have my everlasting gratitude,” declared Lester, earnestly.

“It takes people with nerves of steel to accomplish it.  A person who is nervous to the slightest degree would not dare to try it, for fear of turning suddenly insane from the terrible mental struggle.  Do you still wish to know what it is?”

“Yes,” responded Lester, “and I can use my judgment whether I dare try it or not.”

“Very good,” replied the gentleman, “then here it is:  Counting five thousand backward will either restore your loss of memory, or, as I have taken care to warn you gravely in advance, cause you to go insane.  It must be done rapidly, and in a given space of time.  In my belief the remedy is by far worse than the malady.  I feel, somehow, as though I ought not to have told you about it.”

“Nonsense,” said Lester.  “You need have little fear of my trying it.”

He thought of it, however, as the cab rolled rapidly along.

“I wonder if harm would result from my trying it?” he mused.  “I have unusually strong nerves, and—­and, if anything disastrous should come of it, there is not one soul on the wide earth that would be injured.  There is no mother to weep, no fair young sister to grieve, no father or brother to be bowed down with sorrow.  I am alone in the world.  My foolhardiness would injure only myself—­only myself.”

He had been thinking so deeply that he had not noted the flight of time, nor that the street lamps had grown fewer and far between, at last ceasing altogether, and that they were traveling a country road.  Suddenly the vehicle came to a stop.  The driver jumped from his box and opened the door with a jerk, remarking: 

“This is the place.”

Lester alighted, looking about him in a rather mystified manner, but before he could make the inquiry that rose to his lips the driver hastened to say: 

“The path that leads to the house, which is just beyond that clump of trees, is so narrow that we cannot drive there.  We will have to walk.  It is but a short distance.  You will see the house at the first turn in the path.”

And as the man uttered the words he gave a peculiar cough.

“Who is the person who sent for me?” Lester queried, stopping short.  The man made an evasive answer, which aroused his suspicions that all was not as it should be.

“Why do you not answer my question?  I refuse to proceed a step farther until you have satisfied me on this point,” declared Lester, haughtily.