When Donaldson appeared at the door of the Arsdale house he was confronted by Ben whose eyes were afire as though he had been drinking. Before he could speak a word the latter squared off before him aggressively.

"What the devil have you done to my sister?" he demanded.

Donaldson drew back, frightened by the question.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, the dog dropping from his arms to the floor.

"She \'s in bed, and half out of her mind," returned the other fiercely. "She said you \'d gone! Donaldson, if you \'ve hurt her—"

The boy\'s fists were clenched as though he were about to strike. Donaldson stood with his arms hanging limply by his side. He felt Arsdale\'s right to strike if he wished.

"I have n\'t gone," he answered.

"I don\'t know what has happened," Arsdale ran on heatedly, "but I want to tell you this—that as much as you \'ve done for me, I won\'t stand for your hurting her."

"Let me see her," demanded Donaldson, coming to himself.

"She won\'t see any one! She \'s locked up in her room. She may be dead. If she is, you \'ve killed her!"

Arsdale half choked upon the words. It was with difficulty that he restrained himself. He was blind to everything, save that in some way this man was responsible for the girl\'s suffering.

"Perhaps she \'ll see me. Where is she?"

Donaldson without waiting for an answer pushed past Arsdale and the latter allowed it, but followed at his heels. Donaldson knew where she was without being told. She was in the big front room where the balcony led outdoors. He went up the stairs heavily, for he knew that more depended on the next half hour than had anything so far in all this harrowing week. Though there was plenty of light he groped his way close to the wall like a blind man. At the closed door he paused to catch his breath. In the meanwhile the boy, half frantic, pounded on the panels, shouting over his shoulder,

"She won\'t let us in, I tell you! She won\'t let us in! She may be dead!"

At this, Donaldson forced Arsdale back. He put his mouth close to the insensate wood and called her name.

"Elaine."

There was no answer.

He knocked lightly and called again. Again the silence, the boy stumbling up against him with an inarticulate cry. The nurse joined them, and the three stood there in shivering terror. Donaldson felt panic clutching at his own heart. Before throwing his weight against the door, he tried once more.

"Elaine," he cried, "it is I—Donaldson."

There was the sound of movement within, and then came the stricken plea,

"Go away. Please go away."

Arsdale answered,

"Let me in, Elaine. Nothing shall hurt you. I\'ll—"

Donaldson turned upon him and the nurse.

"Go down-stairs," he commanded.

His voice made them both shudder back.

"Go down-stairs," he repeated. "Do you hear! Leave her to me!"

Arsdale started a protest, but the nurse, in fright, took his arm and half dragged him towards the stairs. Donaldson followed threateningly. His face was terrible. He stood at the head of the stairs until they reached the hall below. Then he returned to the door.

"Elaine," he said, "I have come back. Do you hear me, Elaine? I have come back."

He heard within the sound as of muffled sobbing. He himself was breathing as though a great weight were on his chest.

"Elaine," he cried, "won\'t you open the door to me?"

The sobbing was broken by a tremulous voice.

"Is that you, Peter Donaldson?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Then go away and leave me, Peter Donaldson."

"Elaine, can you hear me clearly?"

There was the pause of a moment, and than the broken voice.

"Go away."

"No," he answered steadily, "I can\'t. I can\'t go away again until I see you. You must tell me face to face to go. I \'ve come back to you."

She did not answer.

"Elaine," he cried, "open the door to me. Let me see you."

"I don\'t want to see you."

He waited a moment. Then he said more soberly,

"Elaine, I can\'t go away. I must stay right here until I see you. I sha\'n\'t move from here until my soul goes. Whether you hear me or not, you will know that I am right here by the door. At the end of one hour, at the end of two hours, at the end of a day, I shall still be here. If they try to drag me away, they \'ll have to fight—they \'ll have to fight hard."

There was no answer. He leaned back against the wall. Below, he heard a whispered conversation between Arsdale and the nurse; within, he heard nothing. So five minutes passed, and to Donaldson the world was chaos. He felt as though he were locked up in a tom............