But last night a thing we had never counted upon happened.

In the dead of the night the unknown broke into the house--into the very nursery itself--and but that Lady Chepstow, impelled she does not know by what, only that she was nervous and wakeful, and felt the need of some companionship, rose and carried the sleeping child into her own bed, he would assuredly have been murdered.

The nurse, awakened by a horrible suffocating sensation, opened her eyes to find a man bending over her with a chloroform-soaked cloth, which he was about to lay over her face.

She shrieked and fainted, but not before she saw the man spring to the little bed on the other side of her own, hack furiously at it with a long, murderous knife, then dart to the window and vanish.
In the darkness he had not, of course, been able to see that that little bed was empty, for its position kept it in deep shadow, and hearing the household stir at the sound of the nurse's shriek, he struck out blindly and flew to save himself from detection.

The nurse states that he was undoubtedly a foreigner--a dark-skinned Asiatic--and her description of him tallies with that his little lordship gave of the man who attempted to kill him that day in the Park.