"You are not hurt?" she asked anxiously.
"Not so very much, I think," Mercer said as he struggled to his feet. "But the man nearly choked the life out of me all the same."
"What has happened?" Beatrice asked. "How did you get here? What brings you in the house at this time in the morning?"
Wilfrid pressed his hands to his head. He was too dazed to reply coherently. Then as his mind cleared, events began to adjust themselves, and the strange panorama of the night unfolded itself slowly.
"I will tell you," he said. "I am here because I happen to know that your uncle is in imminent danger. How I got into the house doesn't much matter. I came here without ceremony, and I was making my way upstairs when I interrupted that man and had to fight for my life. But hadn't we better ascertain that your uncle is safe?"
"Oh, yes," Beatrice said eagerly. "I am afraid we shall not be able to get into his room. He always locks himself in and the door of his bedroom is lined with steel, as a precaution against burglars or something of that kind, so he said."
Wilfrid waited to hear no more. He was quite himself by this time. Followed by Beatrice he went quietly up the stairs until he came to the door of her uncle's room. He tried the lock, but it resisted all his efforts. It did not seem prudent to call out in case something terrible might be going on inside.
"Is there no other way?" Wilfrid whispered. "Is there no balcony at the back of the house, no creepers, or rain-pipes, or anything of that kind? Have no fear—forewarned, forearmed."
"There is a balcony running all the way along," Beatrice explained. "My uncle talks of having it removed, but he has not done so yet. I can help you through a bedroom window and you can creep along and see for yourself. But I implore you not to run into any danger."
"It is a case of life or death," Wilfrid said gravely. "I will be as prudent as I can. But we must not lose time."