"Nothing, fortunately," Arnold replied. "The man, by some means or other, seems to have been hurt."
"Where is he?" Mr. Weatherley demanded.
"In my boudoir," Fenella replied. "We will all go. I have telephoned for a doctor."
"A doctor? What for?" Mr. Weatherley inquired. "Who needs a doctor?"
"The burglar, if he is a burglar," she explained, gently. "Don't you understand that all we found was a man, lying in the centre of the room? He has had a fall of some sort."
"God bless my soul!" Mr. Weatherley said. "Well, come along, let's have a look at him."
They trooped down the passage. Groves, waiting outside for them, opened the door. Mr. Weatherley, who was first, looked all around the apartment.
"Where is this man?" he demanded. "Where is he?"
