toward the gate in the southern corner of the garden.

For my part I scrambled unceremoniously up the bank, and emerged where
the yews stood sentinel beside the path. I ran through the gap in the
box hedge just as the main doors were thrown open by Pedro.

He started back as he saw me.

"Pedro! Pedro!" I cried, "have the ladies been awakened?"

"Yes, yes! there is terrible trouble, sir. What has happened? What has
happened?"

"A tragedy," I said, shortly. "Pull yourself together. Where is Madame
de Staemer?"

Pedro uttered some exclamation in Spanish and stood, pale-faced,
swaying before me, a dishevelled figure in a dressing gown. And now in
the background Mrs. Fisher appeared. One frightened glance she cast in
my direction, and would have hurried across the hall but I intercepted
her.

"Where are you going, Mrs. Fisher?" I demanded. "What has happened
here?"

"To Madame, to Madame," she sobbed, pointing toward the corridor which
communicated with Madame de Staemer's bedchamber.

I heard a frightened cry proceeding from that direction, and recognized
the voice of Nita, the girl who acted as Madame's maid. Then I heard