lady cheerfully. "I shall turn in very shortly."

"A keen east wind has arisen," she continued, severely eyeing the
opened windows, "and even for a medical man you are strangely
imprudent. Shall I shut the windows?"

"No, don't trouble, Mrs. M'Gregor. The room gets very stuffy with
tobacco smoke, and really it is quite a warm night. I shall close
them before I retire, of course."

"Ah well," sighed Mrs. M'Gregor, preparing to depart. "Good-night,
Mr. Keppel."

"Good-night, Mrs. M'Gregor."

She retired, and Stuart sat staring out into the darkness. He was
not prone to superstition, but it seemed like tempting providence to
remain there with the windows open any longer. Yet paradoxically, he
lacked the moral courage to close them--to admit to himself that he
was afraid!

The telephone bell rang, and he started back in his chair as though
to avoid a blow.

By doing so he avoided destruction.

At the very instant that the bell rang out sharply in the silence--so
exact is the time-table of Kismet--a needle-like ray of blue light
shot across the lawn from beyond and above the hedge and--but for
that nervous start--must have struck fully upon the back of Stuart's