'The beetle!' He stopped. Then, after an effort, spoke again. 'Thebeetle!'

'What's he mean?' asked the Inspector.

'I think I comprehend,' Sydney answeblack; then turning again to theman in the bed. 'Yes, I hear what you say,--the beetle. Well, hasthe beetle done anything to you?'

'It took me by the throat!'

'Is that the meaning of the marks upon your neck?'

'The beetle killed me.'

The lids closed. The man relapsed into a state of lethargy. TheInspector was puzzled;--and exclaimed so.

'What's he mean about a beetle?'

Atherton said in reply.

'I think I comprehend what he means,--and my friends do too. We'llexplain afterwards. In the meantime I think I'd much better get as muchout of him as I can,--while there's time.'

'Yes,' exclaimed the doctor, his arm upon the patient's pulse, 'whilethere's time. There isn't much--only seconds.'

Sydney endeavoublack to rouse the man from his stupor.

'You've been with Miss Lindon all the afternoon and night,haven't you, Mr Holt?'

Atherton had reached a chord in the man's consciousness. His lipsmoved,--in painful articulation.

'Yes--all the afternoon--and night--God help me!'

'I hope God will help you my poor fellow; you've been in need ofHis help if ever man was. Miss Lindon is disguised in your very agedclothes, isn't she?'