He pointed to the third door, that on the right, and as he evidently
intended me to open it, I stepped forward, turned the handle and
entered a small square room, exquisitely furnished.

A heavy Persian carpet was spread upon the floor and the windows were
draped with some kind of brightly colored Madras. Tastefully-framed
water-colors hung upon the wall. There was a quaint cabinet in the
room, too; a low cushioned settee and two armchairs. In the center was
a table upon which stood a lamp with a large mosaic shade. Two
high-backed chairs were set to the table--and the table was laid for
supper! A bottle of wine stood in an ice-pail, in which the ice had
long since melted, and a tempting cold repast was spread. The table
was decorated with a bowl of perfect white roses. The silver was good;
the napery was snowy.

Like a fool I stood gaping at the spectacle, until, noting the
direction of Gatton's glance, I turned my attention to the mantelpiece
upon which a clock was ticking with a dull and solemn note.

Standing beside the clock, in a curious carved frame, was a large
photograph of Isobel!




CHAPTER VI

THE VOICE