ever-widening eyes, as though the beauty of her had wakened some dormant
sense whose existence he had never suspected; as though, until now, he
had never known how fair it was possible for a woman to be, how fair,
how lovable, how much to be desired; and whilst he was so looking she
reached the foot of the staircase and came pantingly toward him.

"Oh, Mr. Narkom, what was it--that noise I heard?" she said in a tone of
deepest agitation. "It sounded like a struggle--like the noise of
something breaking--and I dressed as hastily as I could and came down.
Did he come? Has he been here? Have you caught him? Oh! why don't you
answer me, instead of staring at me like this? Can't you see how
nervous, how frightened, I am? Dear Heaven! will no one tell me what has
happened?"

"Nothing has happened, miss," answered Petrie, catching her eye as she
flashed round on him. "You'd better go back to bed. Nobody's been here
but Sir Horace. The noise you heard was me a-grabbing of him, and he and
Mr. Narkom a-tumbling over something as they went down to look at the
furnace."

"Furnace? What furnace? What are you talking about?" she cried
agitatedly. "What do you mean by saying that Sir Horace came down?"

"Only what the superintendent himself will tell you, miss, if you ask
him. Sir Horace came downstairs in his pyjamas a few minutes ago to say
as he'd recollected about the flues of the furnace in the cellar being
big enough to hold a man, and then him and Mr. Narkom went below to have
a look at it."

She gave a sharp and sudden cry, and her face went as pale as a dead