Mrs. Peddar's apartment is on the seventh floor, the top of the building. Normally, I'd climb the stairs to avoid drawing the attention of the porter, but when I got to the staircase, the lift was available, so I figured I'd save some time and energy. Once inside:

"Going up or down?"

"I'm headed up to Mrs. Peddar's." The porter looked at me skeptically.

"She's at the very top and typically in bed by now."

"I'd guess as much. However, I have to disturb her; it's urgent that I get her help."

"Is something wrong?" "No, nothing you need to worry about." As we went up, I could tell Turner—the night porter—was curious about my late-night visit to Mrs. Peddar. It made me think to ask him something.

"Did a woman come by earlier tonight?"

"To where?"

"The first floor—or any floor really?" He shook his head.

"Positive?"

"Yeah, no woman's entered for a couple of hours at least. The last was Mrs. Sabin; she lives on the fourth floor with her husband. They were back from a show at the Gaiety Theatre around eleven." His response made me ponder how my unexpected guest could've come onto my balcony since no one entered through the lobby. Turner added his own observation unasked.

"The last man to leave was Mr. Lawrence’s brother." That caught my interest.

"Oh? Mr. Lawrence’s brother, huh?"

"That's right—Philip, if I remember correctly. He took off just moments before you showed up, in a massive rush—didn't even respond to my 'good night.' He was lugging a huge package."

"You're sure it was Mr. Lawrence’s brother?"

"Definitely. My cousin drives for him; I recognize him."

"And he left three minutes before I got here?"

"It wasn't quite three minutes." So Philip had been with his brother well after my surprise visitor arrived—a thought that gave me some comfort. Turner went on:. He went up about an hour ago, maybe a bit longer. No parcel in his hand at that time. It caught my attention when he returned with one – it didn’t seem like him to carry packages, especially not that kind. If he’d given me half a chance, I would've hailed him a cab, but I was just heading out with Mr. Maynard, and he dashed off too quickly. Should I hang around for you, sir? Mrs. Peddar’s place is just the first door around the corner.”

I told him there was no need to wait, sensing it might take a while to get Mrs. Peddar to understand what I needed from her. She must be a light sleeper; my knock barely touched the door before she called out asking who it was. When I answered, she promptly emerged in her dressing-gown.

“Oh, Mr. Ferguson! Why are you here at this ungodly hour?”

I realized this might be even tougher to explain than I thought.

“There’s a visitor downstairs, Mrs. Peddar."

"A visitor? And? Why should that bother me at this time of night?"

I presumed she mentioned that because the Mansions provide meals and thought that I’d woken her up hoping to snag some late-night snack.

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"It's a lady, and I need to know if you could possibly give her a place to stay tonight."

“A place to stay? Who is this lady?”

“Well – the thing is, Mrs. Peddar, something quite extraordinary has happened. I’ve come to fill you in and seek your advice.”

"Then come inside."

As I entered her sitting room, she left the door ajar – seemingly mindful of being proper. Her demeanor gave me the impression she might suspect me of some disreputable conduct unbefitting my reputation.

"A young lady has just entered my room through the window,” I said.

“Through the window! At this time? Mr. Ferguson!"

"I'm afraid she may not be fully mentally sound."

"That’d be the least unsettling explanation."

"She's undoubtedly a lady."

"A lady?" She pressed her lips tightly together. "Are you making fun of me?"

"I couldn't be more serious; and truly, she's every bit a lady—you’ll see that when you meet her. But let me explain further! Initially, I thought she was sleepwalking and still feel like something unusual has affected her. She can’t recall her name or anything about herself – it's as if she's bewildered."

“Has she been drinking?”

“Just meet her yourself, and you'll see that such insinuations would be totally out of line.”

“No offense taken but when you mention a random woman climbing through your window late at night – it’s hard not to have certain ideas.”

“And again, I assure you, this 'random woman' is genuinely noble in character - something terrible has clearly transpired recently.”

“Alright then, Mr. Ferguson. You’re possibly too sympathetic for your own good. Where is this woman currently?”

“She’s in my dining room.”

"And she is there by herself?"

“Yes, completely alone.”

"Well then, don't be shocked if she’s already slipped back through that window with a little memento from your place. Forgive me for saying so, but you might just be the most trusting soul I’ve ever met. We should get moving fast if we hope to find her still there.”

Encouraged by Mrs. Peddar, I hurried down the stairs with her, only to find my expectations thwarted. My guest hadn't departed. She was still in the dining room, sound asleep in an armchair. As we entered, the soft sound of her breathing reached our ears; she was sleeping as peacefully as a child. The scene before us softened the heart of the housekeeper.

"She looks absolutely serene and elegant! And her attire is lovely! Wow, those rings are stunning!"

The young woman's hands were resting on her lap, adorned with what appeared to be several pricey rings. Mrs. Peddar's excitement almost matched mine once she began expressing it.

"She’s so strikingly pale and lovely! It's obvious she's completely exhausted. And you mentioned she entered through the window? How on earth did she manage that? Who is she, and where did she come from?"

"I've tried asking her those very questions, but to no avail. Clearly, she's worn out. If you could provide her with a place to sleep tonight—naturally, I'll cover any costs—we might learn more from her in the morning."

"She’s welcome to a bed; I suspect you might be right this time around. She does have a certain nobility about her and besides, I could never turn away someone so enchanting. But who will have the heart to wake her? She seems to be sleeping so deeply."

"I'll do it."

And I did, gently tapping her shoulder. She stirred, turned around, opened her eyes and immediately sat up straight when she realized it was me.

"I must have dozed off again; my eyes just wouldn't stay open. Where have you been? I thought you'd never come back. It was so silent in here and the chair is so comfortable that sleep overtook me."

"I went to find Mrs. Peddar, whom I mentioned earlier. She’s here now."

Upon seeing Mrs. Peddar, the young woman greeted her with a beaming smile that I believe instantly charmed Mrs. Peddar.

"Oh, Mrs. Peddar, I just can't shake this drowsiness. It feels like all I want is to sleep endlessly."

Mrs. Peddar observed her with a mix of curiosity and empathy.

"You're simply rundown," Mrs. Peddar deduced. "A full night of rest will set you right; follow me for a night in one of the most comfortable beds you'll ever experience."

"Mrs. Peddar’s company will be perfect for you," I reassured the hesitating girl. "You couldn’t be in more secure or caring hands."

"Can't I just stay here?"

Both Mrs. Peddar and I exchanged glances; she addressed the girl’s concern.

"You'd be far more comfortable in my quarters," Mrs. Peddar explained gently, noticing Mr. Ferguson’s solitude.

"But where will you stay?"

The girl's anxious inquiry and pleading look gave me an unexplainable sense of satisfaction.

"I’ll be just downstairs," I promised her empathetically, "And first thing tomorrow, I’ll come check on how well you slept."

"Do you promise?"

"I’ve never made a promise more eagerly."

Her reluctance lingered so to comfort her further, I walked with her up to Mrs. Peddar’s apartment. Even once there, she seemed uneasy about me leaving—a feeling which made my descent down those endless stairs feel lighter than air despite its irrationality.

It was preposterous—why should my emotions swing by the whimsical behavior of this enigmatic woman who had invaded my home at midnight cloaked in blood-soaked garments?