The moment my hand grasped the handle I leapt upon the little step and tried to wrench the door open. It was locked, locked from without; it defied my every effort. I had only just standing room for my feet. Below me the floor of the room was still racing round with terrible speed. I dared scarcely look at it, for the giddiness in my head increased each moment. The next instant a soft footstep was distinctly audible, and I saw a gleam of light through a chink of the door. I heard a hand fumbling at the lock, the door was slowly opened outwards, and I saw the face of Bindloss. For a moment he did not perceive me, for I was crouching down on the step, and the next instant with all my force I flung myself upon him. He uttered a yell of terror. The lantern he carried dropped and went out, but I had gripped him round the neck with my fingers, driving them deep down into his lean, sinewy throat. With frantic speed I pulled him along the passage up to a window, through which the moonlight was shining. Here I released my hold of his throat, but immediately covered him with my revolver. "Down on your knees, or you are a dead man!" I cried. "Confess everything, or I shoot you through the heart." His courage had evidently forsaken him; he began to whimper and cry bitterly. "Spare my life," he screamed. "I will tell everything, only spare my life." "Be quick about it," I said; "I am in no humour to be merciful. Out with the truth." I was listening anxiously for the wife's step, but except for the low hum of machinery and the splashing of the water I heard nothing. "Speak," I said, giving the old man a shake. His lips trembled, his words came out falteringly. "It was Wentworth's doing," he panted. "Wentworth? Not the murdered man?" I cried. "No, no, his cousin. The ruffian who has been the curse of my life. Owing to that last death he inherits the property. He is the real owner of the mill, and he invented the revolving floor. There were deaths--oh yes, oh yes. It was so easy, and I wanted the money. The police never suspected, nor did the doctors. Wentworth was bitter hard on me, and I got into his power." Here he choked and sobbed. "I am a miserable old man, sir," he gasped. "So you killed your victims for the sake of money?" I said, grasping him by the shoulder. "Yes," he said, "yes. The bailiff had twenty pounds all in gold; no one ever knew. I took it and was able to satisfy Wentworth for a bit." "And what about Archibald Wentworth?" "That was _his_ doing, and I was to be paid." "And now finally you wanted to get rid of me?" "Yes; for you suspected."