door, unlocked it and entered. Turning on the light, he crossed and
hastily drew the curtains over the window recess, but without
troubling to close the window which he had opened. Then he returned
to the writing-table and took up the sealed envelope whose presence
in his bureau was clearly responsible for the singular visitation of
the cowled man and for the coming of the lovely Mlle. Dorian.

The "pibroch of the M'Gregors": He remembered something--something
which, unaccountably, he hitherto had failed to recall: that fearful
wailing in the night--which had heralded the coming of the cowled
man!--or had it been a _signal_ of some kind?

He stared at the envelope blankly, then laid it down and stood looking
for some time at the golden scorpion's tail. Finally, his hands
resting upon the table, he found that almost unconsciously he had
been listening--listening to the dim night sounds of London and to
the vague stirrings within the house.

"_Now_, you are in danger. Before, you were not...."

Could he believe her? If in naught else, in this at least surely she
had been sincere? Stuart started--then laughed grimly.

A clock on the mantel-piece had chimed the half-hour.



CHAPTER VI

THE ASSISTANT COMMISSIONER