this part story clear, I append the following plan first floor of Styles The servants' rooms are reached door B no communication right wing, where the Inglethorps' rooms were situated

It seemed the middle night when awakened by Lawrence Cavendish He had candle hand, agitation face told me at once that something was seriously wrong

"What's the matter ? '' I asked, sitting up in bed, and trying to collect my scattered thoughts

" afraid my mother is very ill She having some kind of fit Unfortunately she has locked herself in ''

"I'll come at once ''

I sprang out of bed; and, pulling on dressing-gown, followed Lawrence along the passage gallery right wing house

John Cavendish joined us, and servants were standing round in state of awe-stricken excitement Lawrence turned brother

"What we had better do ? ''

Never, , had his indecision of character been more apparent

John rattled the handle of Mrs Inglethorp's door violently, but with no effect obviously locked or bolted inside The whole household was aroused by now The most alarming sounds were audible interior room Clearly something

"Try going through Mr Inglethorp's room, sir,'' cried Dorcas "Oh, the poor mistress ! ''

Suddenly I realized that Alfred Inglethorp was not -- that he alone had given no sign presence John opened the door room pitch dark, but Lawrence was following candle, and by its feeble light we saw bed slept in, no sign room having been occupied

We went straight connecting door That, too, was locked or bolted inside ?

"Oh, dear, sir,'' cried Dorcas, wringing her hands, "what ever shall ? ''

" try and break the door in, I suppose It'll be tough job, though Here, let maids go down and wake Baily and tell him for Dr Wilkins at once Now then, we'll have try door Half moment, though, isn't there door into Miss Cynthia's rooms ? ''

"Yes, sir, but that's always bolted It's never been undone ''

"Well, just see ''

He ran rapidly down the corridor to Cynthia's room Mary Cavendish was there, shaking the girl -- an unusually sound sleeper -- and trying to wake her

In moment or two back

"No good That's bolted too break door is shade less solid one passage ''

We strained and heaved together The framework door was solid, and it resisted our efforts, but at last it give beneath our weight, and finally, with resounding crash, burst open

We stumbled in together, Lawrence still holding his candle Mrs Inglethorp was lying bed, her whole form agitated by violent convulsions, in one she overturned the table beside her entered, however, her limbs relaxed, and she fell back pillows

John strode across the room, and lit the gas Turning to Annie, housemaids, he sent her downstairs dining-room for brandy Then he went across mother whilst I unbolted the door that gave corridor

I turned to Lawrence, to I had better leave them now that no further need services, but the words were frozen on my lips Never have I seen such ghastly look on any man's face white as chalk, the candle he held shaking hand was sputtering onto the carpet, eyes, petrified with terror, or some such kindred emotion, stared fixedly over my head at point further wall he had seen something that turned him to stone I instinctively followed the direction eyes, but I nothing unusual The still feebly flickering ashes grate, row of prim ornaments mantelpiece, were surely harmless enough

The violence of Mrs Inglethorp's attack seemed passing She was able in short gasps

"Better now -- very sudden -- stupid of me -- to lock myself in ''

shadow fell bed and, looking up, Mary Cavendish standing near the door with her arm around Cynthia She seemed supporting the girl, who looked utterly dazed and unlike herself Her face was heavily flushed, and she yawned repeatedly

"Poor Cynthia is quite frightened,'' said Mrs Cavendish in low clear voice She herself, I noticed, was dressed in her white land smock Then it later than that faint streak of daylight was showing curtains windows, and clock mantelpiece pointed to close upon five o'clock

strangled cry bed startled me fresh access of pain seized the unfortunate old lady The convulsions were of violence terrible to behold Everything was confusion We thronged round her, powerless to help or alleviate final convulsion lifted her bed, until she appeared to rest upon her head and her heels, with her body arched in an extraordinary manner In vain Mary and John tried to administer more brandy The moments flew Again the body arched itself peculiar fashion

moment, Dr Bauerstein pushed his way authoritatively room instant he stopped dead, staring figure bed, and, same instant, Mrs Inglethorp cried out in strangled voice, her eyes fixed doctor:

"Alfred -- Alfred -- -- '' Then she fell back motionless pillows

With stride, the doctor reached the bed, and seizing her arms worked them energetically, applying what artificial respiration He issued few short sharp orders servants An imperious wave hand drove us all door We watched him, fascinated, though we all knew hearts too late, nothing now I expression face that he himself had little hope

Finally he abandoned his task, shaking his head gravely moment, we heard footsteps outside, and Dr Wilkins, Mrs Inglethorp's own doctor, portly, fussy little man, came bustling in

In few words Dr Bauerstein explained how he had happened passing the lodge gates car came out, and had run house as fast as , whilst the car went on to fetch Dr Wilkins With faint gesture hand, he indicated the figure bed

"Ve -- ry sad Ve -- ry sad,'' murmured Dr Wilkins "Poor dear lady Always did far -- far -- against my advice I warned her Her heart was far from strong 'Take it easy,' to her, 'Take -- it -- easy' But no -- her zeal for good works was too great Nature rebelled Na -- ture -- re -- belled ''

Dr Bauerstein, I noticed, was watching the local doctor narrowly He still kept his eyes fixed on him as he spoke

"The convulsions were of peculiar violence, Dr Wilkins sorry you here to witness them They were quite -- tetanic in character ''

"Ah ! '' said Dr Wilkins wisely

" like in private,'' said Dr Bauerstein He turned to John " object ? ''

"Certainly not ''

We all trooped out corridor, leaving the two doctors alone, and I heard the key turned lock behind us

We went slowly down the stairs violently excited certain talent for deduction, and Dr Bauerstein's manner had started flock of wild surmises in my mind Mary Cavendish laid her hand upon my arm

" it ? Why did Dr Bauerstein seem so -- peculiar ? ''

I looked at her

" what ? ''

"What ? ''

"Listen ! '' I looked round, the others were out of earshot I lowered my voice to whisper "I believe she poisoned ! I'm certain Dr Bauerstein suspects it ''