The Professor laid his left hand upon hers, passed his right hand again over his face, and gasped in a thin voice—
"Where 's here?"
"In Quebec Street in your own room, sir! Oh, sir, don't you know me? I 'm Martha Randle?"
The Professor looked down at her with weary but forgiving eyes.
"I do now," he said; "it comes back to me now."
"Oh, Lord!" said Martha Randle, "I 'll send the girl for the chemist!" and she was gone.
Women may be stronger than we men, my brothers, but we are more cunning; and when she had gone the Professor, dropping the mask and dressing with extreme alacrity, made himself possible in morning clothes. His plan had developed still further in the few minutes it took him to go downstairs, and as he entered the room where the policemen awaited him, he was his own master and theirs.
They rose at his entrance. He courteously bade them be seated again, and not allowing them to get any advantage of the first word, told them the plain truth in a few
