the way. I thought of my fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of the unpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why should I slink away without having carried out my commission, and without the payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I cared to confess, I still shook my head, and declared my intention of remaining where I was. She was about to renew her entreaties, when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several footsteps were heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw up her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and as noiselessly as she had come.
"The new-comers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short, thick man with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson.
" 'This is my secretary and manager,' said the colonel. 'By-the-way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just now. I fear that you have felt the draught.'
" 'On the contrary,' said I, 'I opened the door myself, because I felt the room to be a little close.'
"He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. 'Perhaps we had better proceed to business, then,' said he. 'Mr. Ferguson and I will take you up to see the machine.'
" 'I had better put my hat on, I suppose.'
" 'Oh no, it is in the house.'
" 'What, you dig fuller's-earth in the house?'
" 'No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. All we wish you to do is to examine the machine, and to let us know what is wrong with it.'
"We went up-stairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the fat manager, and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, with corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the generations who had crossed them.
