Carriston slept on late into the next day. Knowing that every moment of bodily and mental rest was a precious to him, I left him undisturbed. He was still fast asleep when, about mid-day, a gentleman called upon me. He sent up no card, and I supposed he came to consult me professionally.  
The moment he entered my room I recognized him. He was the thin-lipped, gentlemanly person whom I had met on my journey to Bournemouth last spring—the man who had seemed so much impressed by my views on , and had manifested such interest in the description I had given—without mentioning any name—of Carriston’s mind.
 
I should have at once claimed acquaintanceship with my visitor, but before I could speak he advanced, and apologized for his intrusion.
 
“You will forgive it,” he added, “when I tell you my name is Ralph Carriston.”
 
Remembering our chance conversation, the thought[241] that, after all, Charles Carriston’s wild suspicion was well-founded, flashed through me like lightning. My great hope was that my visitor might not remember my face as I remembered his. I bowed coldly but said nothing.
 
“I believe, Dr. Brand,” he continued, “you have a young relative of mine at present staying with you?”
 
“Yes, Mr. Carriston is my guest,” I answered. “We are old friends.”
 
“Ah, I did not know that. I do not remember having heard him mention your name as a friend. But as it is so, no one knows better than you do the unfortunate state of his health. How do you find him to-day—violent?”
 
I pretended to ignore the man’s meaning, and answered smilingly, “Violence is the last thing I should look for. He is tired out and by travel, and is in great . That, I believe, is the whole of his complaint.”
 
“Yes, yes; to be sure, poor boy! His sweetheart has left him, or something. But as a doctor you must know that his mental condition is not quite what it should be. His friends are very anxious about him. They fear that a little restraint—temporary, I hope—must be put upon his actions. I called to ask your advice and aid.”
 
“In what, Mr. Carriston?”
 
“In this. A young man can’t be left free to go about threatening his friends’ lives. I have brought Dr. Daley with me; you know him, of course. He is below in my carriage. I will call him up, with your permission. He could then see poor Charles, and the needful certificate could be signed by you two doctors.”
 
 
“Mr. Carriston,” I said decidedly, “let me tell you in the plainest words that your cousin is at present as in possession of his wits as you are. Dr. Daley, whoever he may be, could sign no certificate, and in our day no would dare to keep Mr. Carriston within its walls.”
 
An unpleasant look crossed my listener’s face, but his voice still remained and . “I am sorry to differ from you, Dr. Brand,” he said, “but I know him better than you do. I have seen him as you have never yet seen him. Only last night he came to me in a state. I expected every moment he would make a murderous attack on me.”
 
“Perhaps he fancied he had some reasons for anger,” I said.
 
Ralph Carriston looked at me with those cold eyes of which his cousin had spoken. “If the boy has succeeded in converting you to any of his I can only say that doctors are more than I fancied. But the question is not worth arguing. You decline to assist me, so I must do without you. Good-morning, Dr. Brand.”
 
He left the room as gracefully as he had entered it. I remained in a state of doubt. It was curious that Ralph Carriston turned out to be the man whom I had met in the train; but the evidence offered by the coincidence was not enough to convict him of the crime of endeavoring to drive his cousin mad by such a far-fetched as the away of Madeline Rowan. Besides, even in wishing to prove Charles Carriston mad he had much to say on his side. Supposing him to be innocent of having Madeline, Carriston’s violent behavior on the[243] preceding evening must have seemed very much like insanity. In spite of the aversion with which Ralph Carriston inspired me, I scarcely knew which side to believe.
 
Carriston still slept; so when I went out on my afternoon rounds I left a note, begging him to remain in the house until my return. Then I found him up, dressed, and looking much more like himself. When I entered, dinner was on the table; so not until that meal was over could we talk unrestrainedly upon the subject which was uppermost in both our minds.
 
As soon as we were alone I turned toward my guest. “And now,” I said, “we must settle what to do. There seems to me to be but one course open. You have plenty of money, so your best plan is to engage skilled police assistance. Young ladies can’t be spirited away like this without leaving a trace.”
 
To my surprise Carriston flatly objected to this course. “No,” he said, “I shall not go to the police. The man who took her away has placed her where no police can find her. I must find her myself.”
 
“Find her yourself! Why, it may be months, years, before you do that! Good heavens, Carriston! She may be murdered, or worse—”
 
“I shall know if any further evil happens to her—then I shall kill Ralph Carriston.”
 
“But you tell me you have no clew whatever to trace her by. Do talk plainly. Tell me all or nothing.”
 
Carriston smiled very faintly. “No clew that you, at any rate, will believe in,” he said. “But I know this much, she is a prisoner somewhere. She is unhappy, but not, as yet, ill-treated. Heavens! do you[244] think if I did not know this I should keep my senses for an hour?”
 
“How can you possibly know it?”
 
“By that gift—that extra sense or whatever it is—which you . I knew it would come to me some day, but I little thought how I should welcome it. I know that in some way I shall find her by it. I tell you I have already seen her three times. I may see her again at any moment when the strange fit comes............