they walked swiftly back.

Mr. Henshaw made no reply. The events of the day had almost exhausted
him, and silence was maintained until they reached the house. Much to
his relief he heard somebody moving about upstairs after the first
knock, and in a very short time the window was gently raised and Mrs.
Henshaw looked out.

"What, you've come back?" she said, in a low, intense voice. "Well, of
all the impudence! How dare you carry on like this?"

"It's me," said her husband.

"Yes, I see it is," was the reply.

"It's him right enough; it's your husband," said Mr. Stokes. "Alfred
Bell has gone."

"How dare you stand there and tell me them falsehoods!" exclaimed Mrs.
Henshaw. "I wonder the ground don't open and swallow you up. It's Mr.
Bell, and if he don't go away I'll call the police."

Messrs. Henshaw and Stokes, amazed at their reception, stood blinking up
at her. Then they conferred in whispers.

"If you can't tell 'em apart, how do you know this is Mr. Bell?"
inquired Mr. Stokes, turning to the window again.

"How do I know?" repeated Mrs. Henshaw. "How do I know? Why, because my
husband came home almost directly Mr. Bell had gone. I wonder he didn't