The friends set out together; and, under the guidance of the two foremost bumps upon Falconer’s forehead, soon arrived at the place he judged to be that indicated by Euphra.  It was very different from the place Hugh had pictured to himself.  Yet in everything it corresponded to her description.

“Are we not great fools, Sutherland, to set out on such a chase, with the dream of a sick girl for our only guide?”

“I am sure you don’t think so, else you would not have gone.”

“I think we can afford the small risk to our reputation involved in the chase of this same wild-goose.  There is enough of strange testimony about things of the sort to justify us in attending to the hint.  Besides, if we neglected it, it would be mortifying to find out some day, perhaps a hundred years after this, that it was a true hint.  It is altogether different from giving ourselves up to the pursuit of such things. —­ But this ought to be the house,” he added, going up to one that had a rather more respectable look than the rest.

He knocked at the door.  An elderly woman half opened it and looked at them suspiciously.

“Will you take my card to the foreign gentleman who is lodging with you, and say I am happy to wait upon him?” said Falconer.

She glanced at him again, and turned inwards, hesitating whether to leave the door half-open or not.  Falconer stood so close to it, however, that she was afraid to shut it in his face.

“Now, Sutherland, follow me,” whispered Falconer, as soon as the woman had disappeared on the stair.

Hugh followed behind the moving tower of his friend, who strode with long, noiseless strides till he reached the stair.  That he took three steps at a time.  They went up two flights, and reached the top just as the woman was laying her hand on the lock of the back-room door.  She turned and faced them.

“Speak one word,” said Falconer, in a hissing whisper, “and —­ "

He completed the sentence by an awfully threatening gesture.  She drew back in terror, and yielded her place at the door.

“Come in,” bawled some one, in second answer to the knock she had already given.

“It is he!” said Hugh, trembling with excitement.

“Hush!” said Falconer, and went in.

Hugh followed.  He knew the back of the count at once.  He was seated at a table, apparently writing; but, going nearer, they saw that he was drawing.  A single closer glance showed them the portrait of Euphra growing under his hand.  In order to intensify his will and concentrate it upon her, he was drawing her portrait from memory.  But at the moment they caught sight of it, the wretch, aware of a hostile presence, sprang to his feet, and reached the chimney-piece at one bound, whence he caught up a sword.

“Take care, Falconer,” cried Hugh; “that weapon is poisoned.  He is no every-day villain you have to deal with.”