"Listen!" cried Sir Lionel Barton.  
He stood upon the black rug before the massive, carven mantelpiece, a huge man in an appropriately huge setting.
 
I checked the words on my lips, and listened intently. Within Graywater Park all was still, for the hour was late. Outside, the rain was descending in a deluge, its continuous roar drowning any other sound that might have been discernible. Then, above it, I detected a noise that at first I found difficult to define.
 
"The howling of the leopards!" I suggested.
 
Sir Lionel shook his tawny head with impatience. Then, the sound growing louder, suddenly I knew it for what it was.
 
"Some one shouting!" I exclaimed—"some one who rides a galloping horse!"
 
"Coming here!" added Sir Lionel. "Hark! he is at the door!"
 
A bell rang furiously, again and again sending its brazen clangor echoing through the great apartments and passages of Graywater.
 
"There goes Kennedy."
 
Above the sibilant roaring of the rain I could hear some one releasing heavy bolts and bars. The servants had long since retired, as also had Kâramaneh; but Sir Lionel's man remained wakeful and alert.
 
Sir Lionel made for the door, and I, standing up, was about to follow him, when Kennedy appeared, in his wake a bedraggled groom, hatless, and pale to the lips. His frightened eyes looked from face to face.
 
"Dr. Petrie?" he gasped interrogatively.
 
"Yes!" I said, a sudden dread assailing me. "What is it?"
 
"Gad! it's Hamilton's man!" cried Barton.
 
"Mr. Nayland Smith, sir," continued the groom brokenly—and all my fears were realized. "He's been attacked, sir, on the road from the station, and Dr. Hamilton, to whose house he was carried——"
 
"Kennedy!" shouted Sir Lionel, "get the Rolls-Royce out! Put your horse up here, my man, and come with us!"
 
He turned abruptly … as the groom, grasping at the wall, fell heavily to the floor.
 
"Good God!" I cried—"What's the matter with him?"
 
I bent over the prostrate man, making a rapid examination.
 
"His head! A nasty blow. Give me a hand, Sir Lionel; we must get him on to a couch."
 
The unconscious man was laid upon a Chesterfield, and, ably assisted by the explorer, who was used to coping with such hurts as this, I attended to him as best I could. One of the men-servants had been aroused, and, just as he appeared in the doorway, I had the satisfaction of seeing Dr. Hamilton's groom open his eyes, and look about him, dazedly.
 
"Quick," I said. "Tell me—what hurt you?"
 
The man raised his hand to his head and groaned feebly.
 
"Something came whizzing, sir," he answered. "There was no report, and I saw nothing. I don't know what it can have been——"
 
"Where did this attack take place?"
 
"Between here and the village, sir; just by the coppice at the cross-roads on top of Raddon Hill."
 
"You had better remain here for the present," I said, and gave a few words of instruction to the man whom we had aroused.
 
"This way," cried Barton, who had rushed out of the room, his huge frame reappearing in the door-way; "the car is ready."
 
My mind filled with dreadful apprehensions, I passed out on to the carriage sweep. Sir Lionel was already at the wheel.
 
"Jump in, Kennedy," he said, when I had taken a seat beside him; and the man sprang into the car.
 
Away we shot, up the narrow lane, lurched hard on the bend—and were off at ever growing speed toward the hills, where a long climb awaited the car.
 
The head-light picked out the straight road before us, and Barton increased the pace, regardless of regulations, until the growing slope made itself felt and the speed grew gradually less; above the throbbing of the motor, I could hear, now, the rain in the overhanging trees.
 
I peered through the darkness, up the road, wondering if we were near to the spot where the mysterious attack had been made upon Dr. Hamilton's groom. I decided that we were just passing the place, and to confirm my opinion, at that moment Sir Lionel swung the car around suddenly, and plunged headlong into the black mouth of a narrow lane.
 
Hitherto, the roads had been fair, but now the jolting and swaying became very pronounced.
 
"Beastly road!" shouted Barton—"and stiff gradient!"
 
I nodded.
 
That part of the way which was visible in front had the appearance of a muddy cataract, through which we must force a path.
 
Then, as abruptly as it had commenced, the rain ceased; and at almost the same moment came an angry cry from behind.
 
The canvas hood made it impossible to see clearly in the car, but, turning quickly, I perceived Kennedy, with his cap off, rubbing his close-cropped skull. He was cursing volubly.
 
"What is it, Kennedy?
 
"Somebody sniping!" cried the man. "Lucky for me I had my cap on............