he being at that time a widower. She was a beautiful woman,
tall, dark, and slender, some twenty years younger than her
husband; a disparity which seemed in no wise to mar the
contentment of their family life.

It was remarked sometimes, however, by those who knew them best,
that the confidence between the two did not appear to be
complete, since the wife was either very reticent about her
husband's past life, or else, as seemed more likely, was
imperfectly informed about it. It had also been noted and
commented upon by a few observant people that there were signs
sometimes of some nerve-strain upon the part of Mrs. Douglas, and
that she would display acute uneasiness if her absent husband
should ever be particularly late in his return. On a quiet
countryside, where all gossip is welcome, this weakness of the
lady of the Manor House did not pass without remark, and it
bulked larger upon people's memory when the events arose which
gave it a very special significance.

There was yet another individual whose residence under that roof
was, it is true, only an intermittent one, but whose presence at
the time of the strange happenings which will now be narrated
brought his name prominently before the public. This was Cecil
James Barker, of Hales Lodge, Hampstead.

Cecil Barker's tall, loose-jointed figure was a familiar one in
the main street of Birlstone village; for he was a frequent and
welcome visitor at the Manor House. He was the more noticed as
being the only friend of the past unknown life of Mr. Douglas who
was ever seen in his new English surroundings. Barker was