Just as the sinking sun set ablaze the window
panes in Beverly, across the bay, Gaspard returned
with two messages. One was from the manager of
the Oriental Hotel at Manhattan Beach, whom I
knew personally, and stated that Milbrath had left
his house on the previous day, destination imknown;
the other, signed by the Ounard Steamship Com-
pany, was as follows:

" Mr. H. Milbrath on the 2l8t cancelled his book-
ing for passage on the ^ XJmbria.' '*



CHAPTEE XIX

WABNED AGAIN

THE effect of these messages was, to say the
least, disquieting. I could not put aside Kil-
bourne's insinuation that Milbrath, while guiltlesa
of the crime against his uncle, might have a reason
for wishing me to leave Overlook, and by anony-
mous warnings was endeavoring to drive me away.
On the other hand, Kilboume had also said that
when I found the one who uttered that weird cry
I should find the author of the communications, and,
probably, the slayer of Peter Somhers. These two
remarks were inconsistent in appearance, but I took
it that the latter was a modification of the former,
wjiich, at the time, I had regarded as of little value.
Now, however, it assumed a new importance, and
the notion that Milbrath's reason for wanting me
to leave had its origin in the secret of the south wing
recurred to me insistently.
My sleep was restless and unsatisfactory that
night I dreamed of Milbrath in a half dozen ways,
but the only tangible recollection of my dreams
was the expression of his face. It haunted me
for hours, and it was with a heavy heart that I
started out after breakfast to learn something, if
possible, as to the whereabouts of the men who had
built the wing.
