"Thursday. They brought me back my travelling bag. My attendant
is uneasy. She was longer in cleaning up the room than usual to-day.
She seemed to want to say something to me, and yet she did not dare
to speak. Is something to happen to-day then? I did not close my
eyes all night. Can one be made insane from a distance? hypnotised
into it, as it were? I will not allow fear alone to make me mad.
My enemy shall not find it too easy. He may kill my body, but that
is all - "

These were the last words which Asta Langen had written in her
notebook, the little book which was the only confidant of her
terrible need. When the detective had finished reading it, he closed
his eyes for a few minutes to let the impression made by the story
sink into his mind.

Then he rose and put on his overcoat. He entered the commissioner's
room and took up his hat and cane.

"Where are you going, Muller?" asked Herr Von Mayringen.

"To Cathedral Lane, if you will permit it."

"At this hour? it is quarter past eleven! Is there any such hurry,
do you think? There is no train from any of our stations until
morning. And I have already sent a policeman to watch the house.
Besides, I know that Fellner is a highly respected man.

"There is many a man who is highly respected until he is found out,"
remarked the detective.