Owen Learns the Truth.
When the Professor seated himself at the breakfast-table and the news of Miss Gwen’s absence was broken to him by Laura, the parlour-maid, he started up in surprise.
“Miss Gwen went out late last night instead of going to bed, sir, and took the latch-key,” the girl was compelled to admit.
The old man pursed his thin lips. His daughter was not in the habit of going out on midnight escapades.
“Late last night Miss Gwen received a telegram, sir,” the girl added. “It seemed to excite her very much; she dressed at once, and went out.”
The Professor rose from the table without eating, and went to the study to think.
Upon the blotting-pad lay a sheet of ruled manuscript paper. He stared at it in horror as though he saw an apparition, for there upon the paper, scrawled boldly in blue chalk, were the mystic figures:
255.19.7
They danced before his eyes, as he stood staring at them. How came they there, in his own study? What could they mean?
He looked around bewildered. Nothing was out of place—nothing disturbed. Those puzzling figures had been written there by some unseen hand.