doubtless been here before, for, if you will recollect, his attendants
took him to the right table as if it had been ordered beforehand. And
now, if you don't mind, I'll turn in--not that I expect to sleep much
after an exciting evening like this. Good night, old fellow."

Gurdon went on to his own room, where he slowly undressed and sat
thinking the whole thing out on the edge of his bed. Perhaps he was
suffering from the same suppressed excitement which at that moment was
keeping Venner awake, for he felt not the slightest disposition to turn
in. Usually he was a sound sleeper; but this night seemed likely to prove
an exception to the rule.

An hour passed, and Gurdon was still sitting there, asking himself
whether it would not be better to go to bed and compel sleep to come to
him. Impatiently he turned out his light and laid his head resolutely on
the pillow.

But it was all in vain--sleep was out of the question. The room was not
altogether in darkness, either; for the sleeping apartments on that
landing had been arranged back to back with a large, open ventilator
between them. Through this ventilator came a stream of light; evidently
the occupant of the adjoining room had not yet retired. The light
worried Gurdon; he asked himself irritably why his neighbor should be
permitted to annoy him in this way. A moment or two later the sound of
suppressed voices came through the ventilator, followed by the noise of a
heavy fall.

At any ordinary time Gurdon would have thought nothing of this, but his
imagination was aflame now, and his mind was full of hidden mysteries. It
seemed to him that something sinister and underhand was going on in the