“Well, he was a large, ugly fellow, sure enough, and looked like an old tree.”

“Did you see him?”

“Yes, to be sure I did.”

“Well, I could not catch a glimpse of his features.  In fact, I was too much employed to see anything, and it was much too dark to notice anything particular, even if I had had leisure.”

“Why, you had as much to do as you could well manage, I must say that, at all events.  I didn’t see much of him myself; only he was a tall, out-of-the-way sort of chap—­a long-legged shark.  He gave me such a dig or two as I haven’t had for a long while, nor don’t want to get again; though I don’t care if I face the devil himself.  A man can’t do more than do his best, doctor.”

“No, Jack; but there are very few who do do their best, and that’s the truth.  You have, and have done it to some purpose too.  But I have had enough for one day; he was almost strong enough to contend against us both.”

“Yes, so he was.”

“And, besides that, he almost carried away the picture—­that was a great hindrance to him.  Don’t you think we could have held him if we had not been fighting over the picture?”

“Yes, to be sure we could; we could have gone at him bodily, and held him.  He would not have been able to use his hands.  We could have hung on him, and I am sure if I came to grapple yard-arm and yard-arm, he would have told a different tale; however, that is neither here nor there.  How long had you been here?”

“Not very long,” replied the doctor, whose head was a little confused by the blows which he had received.  “I can’t now tell how long, but only a short time, I think.”

“Where did he come from?” inquired Jack.

“Come from, Jack?”

“Yes, doctor, where did he came from?—­the window, I suppose—­the same way he went out, I dare say—­it’s most likely.”

“Oh, no, no; he come down from behind the picture.  There’s some mystery in that picture, I’ll swear to it; it’s very strange he should make such a desperate attempt to carry it away.”

“Yes; one would think,” said Jack, there was more in it than we can see—­that it is worth more than we can believe; perhaps somebody sets particular store by it.”

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Chillingworth, shaking his head, “I don’t know how that may be; but certain it is, the picture was the object of his visit here—­that is very certain.”

“It was; he was endeavouring to carry it off,” said Jack; “it would be a very good ornament to the black hole at Calcutta.”

“The utility of putting it where it cannot be seen,” remarked Mr. Chillingworth, “I cannot very well see; though I dare say it might be all very well.”

“Yes—­its ugly features would be no longer seen; so far, it would be a good job.  But are you going to remain here all night, and so make a long watch of it, doctor?”

“Why, Jack,” said the doctor, “I did intend watching here; but now the game is disturbed, it is of no use remaining here.  We have secured the picture, and now there will be no need of remaining in the house; in fact, there is no fear of robbery now.”