“God knows!  She may have been his accomplice.”

Archie knit his brows.

“Who the devil can this mysterious person be?”

“I can only reply as you have done, my friend.  God knows.”

“Well, I am certain that God will not let him escape this time.  This will bring Gartley once more into notoriety,” went on Hope.  “By the way, I saw one of the servants from the Pyramids here.  I hope the fool won’t go home and frighten Lucy’s life out of her.”

“Go to the Pyramids and see her,” suggested Sir Frank.  “Mrs. Jasher is still unconscious, and will be for hours, the doctor tells me.”

“It is too late to go to the Pyramids, Random.”

“If they know of this new tragedy there, I’ll bet they are not in bed.”

Hope nodded.

“All the same, I’ll remain here until Mrs. Jasher can speak,” he said, and sat smoking with Random in the dining-room, as the most comfortable room in the house.

Constable Painter camped, so to speak, in the drawing-room, keeping guard over the scene of the crime, and had placed the Chinese screen against the broken window to keep out the cold.  In the bedroom Jane and Dr. Robinson looked after the dying woman.  And dying she was, according to the young physician, for he did not think she would live much longer.  Round the lonely cottage the sea-mist drifted white and thick, and the darkness deepened, until—­as the saying goes—­it could have been cut with a knife.  Never was there so eerie and weary and sinister a vigil.

Towards four o’clock Hope fell into a doze, while resting in an arm-chair; but he was suddenly aroused from this by an exclamation from Sir Frank, who had remained wide awake, smoking cigar after cigar.  In a moment the artist was on his feet, alert and quick-brained.

“What is it?”

Random made for the dining-room door rapidly.

“I thought I heard Painter call out,” he declared, and hastily sought the parlor, followed by Hope.

The room was empty, but the screen before the broken window had been thrown down, and they could see Painter’s bulky form immediately outside.

“What the deuce is the matter?” demanded Random, entering.  “Did you call out, Painter.  I fancied I heard something.”

The constable came in again.

“I did call out, sir,” he confessed.  “I was half asleep in that chair, when I suddenly became wide awake, and believed I saw a face looking at me round the corner of the screen.  I jumped up, calling for you, sir, and upset the screen.”

“Well? well?” demanded Sir Frank impatiently, and seeing that the man hesitated.

“I saw no one, sir.  All the same, I had an idea, and I have still, that a man came through the window and peered at me from behind the screen.”

“The man who attacked Mrs. Jasher?”

“I can’t say, sir.  But there was someone.  At any rate he’s gone again, if he really did come, and there is no chance of finding him.  It’s like pea-soup outside.”