"I can't understand it at all, Chapman. Time after time I have noticed things here . . . funny things, as you must admit. Yesterday, my walking-stick was moved. . . . The day before that, my papers had certainly been touched. . . . And yet how was it possible? . . . "It is not possible, sir!" cried Chapman, whose honest, placid features displayed no anxiety. "You're imagining things, that's all. . . . You have no proof, nothing but impressions, to go upon. . . . Besides, look here: there is no way into this suite except through the entrance-lobby. Very well. You had a special key made on the day of our arrival: and your own man, Edwards, has the only duplicate. Do you trust him?" "Of course I do! . . . He's been with me for ten years! . . . But Edwards goes to lunch at the same time that we do; and that's a mistake. He must not go down, in future, until we come back." Chapman gave a slight shrug of the shoulders. There was no doubt about it, the Lord of the Cape was becoming a trifle eccentric, with those incomprehensible fears of his. What risk can you run in an hotel, especially when you carry no valuables, no important sum of money on you or with you? They heard the hall-door opening. It was Edwards. Mr. Kesselbach called him: "Are you dressed, Edwards? Ah, that's right! . . . I am expecting no visitors to-day, Edwards . . . or, rather, one visitor only, M. Gourel. Meantime, remain in the lobby and keep an eye on the door. Mr. Chapman and I have some serious work to do." The serious work lasted for a few minutes, during which Mr. Kesselbach went through his correspondence, read three or four letters and gave instructions how they were to be answered. But, suddenly, Chapman, waiting with pen poised, saw that Mr. Kesselbach was thinking of something quite different from his correspondence. He was holding between his fingers and attentively examining a pin, a black pin bent like a fish-hook: "Chapman," he said, "look what I've found on the table. This bent pin obviously means something. It's a proof, a material piece of evidence. You can't pretend now that no one has been in the room. For, after all, this pin did not come here of itself." "Certainly not," replied the secretary. "It came here through me." "What do you mean?" "Why, it's a pin which I used to fasten my tie to my collar. I took it out last night, while you were reading, and I twisted it mechanically." Mr. Kesselbach rose from his chair, with a great air of vexation, took a few steps and stopped.