"I'm ready, Mr. Beaumaroy," said Doctor Mary.
They walked along together in silence for full half the way. Then Beaumaroy spoke. "He was extremely excited—at his worst—when he and I went into the cottage. I had to humour him in every way; it was the only thing to do. That was followed by great fatigue—a sort of collapse. I persuaded him to go to bed. I hope we shall find him there, but I don't know. He would let me go only on condition that I left the door of the Tower unlocked, so that he could go in there if he wanted to. If he has, I'm afraid that you may see something—well, something rather bizarre, Dr. Arkroyd."
"That's all in the course of my profession."
Silence fell on them again, till the outline of cottage and tower came into view through the darkness. Beaumaroy spoke only once again before they reached the garden gate.
"If he should happen to be calmer now, I hope you will not consider it necessary to tell him that you suspect anything unusual."
"He is secretive?"
"He lives in terror."
"Of what?"
"Of being shut up. May I lead the way in, Dr. Arkroyd?"
They entered the cottage, and Beaumaroy shut the door. A lamp was burning dimly in the passage. He turned it up. "Would you kindly wait here one minute?" Receiving her nod of acquiescence, he stepped softly up the stairs, and she heard him open a door above; she knew it was that of Mr. Saffron's bedroom, where she had visited the old man. She waited—now with a sudden sense of suspense. It was very quiet in the cottage.