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far.”
    â€œYou are quite a distance from the cemetery in this house,” Meadows answered. “A vampire cannot go very far without sustenance. In each case attacks have been made on people either within, or just outside, the cemetery. My guess is that, as yet, George has not enough strength to reach you. He might need to kill at least three people in one night, withdrawing their blood into himself, before having sufficient energy to come this far and deal with you.”
    â€œThen—what do we do?’ Elsie asked helplessly.
    â€œI would suggest you leave this district. Go as far away as you can, even to another country if possible. Then you ought to be safe. It can’t be guaranteed, of course, but it is most probable.”
    â€œAnd if it isn’t George,” Peter pointed out, “we have run away from nothing. I will have left my business, which is now building up into something worthwhile, and Elsie will have left this home—in which we both have ownership now, by the way.”
    â€œUp to you,” Meadows said, shrugging. “Just a warning, that’s all—rendered all the more emphat­ic by Singh’s forecast.”
    â€œIsn’t there some way of proving whether or not this vampire is George?” Elsie asked slowly.
    â€œOnly one. Open his grave and find out.”
    â€œWe’d never get permission,” Peter said, rising to his feet. “And in spite of your own belief in this vampire business, Doc, I still think it’s a lot of rubbish! I also think Elsie is in no more danger than you or I. Last of all, I do not be­lieve what Rawnee Singh said.”
    â€œI wish I felt the same,” Meadows said. “As far as George is concerned, the only way to open his grave is to do it ourselves. Certainly the Home Secretary won’t agree to exhumation on the basis of vampires. The Government, like Scotland Yard, is singularly unimaginative in regard to matters of the—other world.”
    â€œIt’s desecration,” Mrs. Burrows whispered. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, doctor!”
    â€œI am thinking of the living,” he answered. “I’m thinking of the possible danger to Elsie. If George is not in his grave we know what to think. He has become a vampire. If we attempt to open his coffin it will be at night, when he too will presumably be on the rampage, and his coffin should be empty. By day it will be empty too, he being in a state of suspended animation.”
    â€œI’m not attempting anything so—so horrible,” Elsie said at last. “I’m staying right where I am, and I’ll live down my fears.”
    â€œNo more than I expected from you, my dear,” Meadows smiled, patting her shoulder. “Well, let us hope everything will work out for the best.... Now I must be going. And keep on with that pres­cription, Mrs. Burrows.”
    She did not answer. Apparently his grave­ opening suggestion had revolted her completely; so with a nod to Elsie and Peter he picked up his bag and headed for the door.
    â€œI’ll see you out,” Peter said, and followed him into the hall. On the front doorstep Peter laid a hand on Meadows’ arm.
    â€œYes?” Meadows asked, putting on his hat.
    Peter glanced about him—back towards the drawing room, then on to the darkness of the driveway where Meadows’ car stood.
    â€œFor Elsie’s sake, doc,” he said, his voice low, “I’d like to satisfy myself about George. I still don’t believe in vampires, but if there is danger for her— You know what I mean?”
    â€œYou mean you’re willing to open his coffin?”
    â€œFor the sake of Elsie, yes. If George has gone, then I must see to it that Elsie leaves the district, and I’ll go too, of course.”
    Meadows glanced at his watch, then at the night sky.
    â€œSeven-thirty,” he said. “The night looks as though it ought to