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self to the individualist Bradlaugh. Recent outbreak of pure anarchy——”

Turnbull slammed the case to, almost smashing it, and said with a burst of savage laughter: “Oh! come along, MacIan; I don’t care so much, even about getting out of the madhouse, if only we get out of this room. You were right enough, MacIan, when you spoke about—about mad doctors.”

Somehow they found themselves outside in the cool, green garden, and then, after a stunned silence, Turnbull said: “There is one thing that was puzzling me all the time, and I understand it now.”

“What do you mean?” asked Evan.

“No man by will or wit,” answered Turnbull, “can get out of this garden; and yet we got into it merely by jumping over a garden-wall. The whole thing explains itself easily enough. That undefended wall was an open trap. It was a trap laid for the two celebrated lunatics. They saw us get in right enough. And they will see that we do not get out.”

Evan gazed at the garden-wall, gravely for more than a minute, and then he nodded without a word.