"Before God, Mr. Bell, I believe the poor fellow is innocent, but the evidence against him is very strong. One of the favourite theories is that he went down to the tunnel and extinguished the light, knowing that this would bring Pritchard out of his box to see what was the matter, and that he then attacked him, striking the blow which fractured the skull." "Has any weapon been found about, with which he could have given such a blow?" "No; nor has anything of the kind been discovered on Wynne's person; that fact is decidedly in his favour." "But what about the marks on the rocks?" I asked. "It is possible that Wynne may have made them in order to divert suspicion by making people think that Pritchard must have fallen, and so killed himself. The holders of this theory base their belief on the absolute want of cause for Pritchard's trying to scale the rock. The whole thing is the most absolute enigma. Some of the country folk have declared that the tunnel is haunted (and there certainly has been such a rumour current among them for years). That Pritchard saw some apparition, and in wild terror sought to escape from it by climbing the rocks, is another theory, but only the most imaginative hold it." "Well, it is a most extraordinary case," I replied. "Yes, Mr. Bell, and I should like to get your opinion of it. Do you see your way to elucidate the mystery?" "Not at present; but I shall be happy to investigate the matter to my utmost ability." "But you do not wish to leave London at present?" "That is so; but a matter of such importance cannot be set aside. It appears, from what you say, that Wynne's life hangs more or less on my being able to clear away the mystery?" "That is indeed the case. There ought not to be a single stone left unturned to get at the truth, for the sake of Wynne. Well, Mr. Bell, what do you propose to do?" "To see the place without delay," I answered. "That is right; when can you come?" "Whenever you please." "Will you come down to Felwyn with me to-morrow? I shall leave Paddington by the 7.10, and if you will be my guest I shall be only too pleased to put you up." "That arrangement will suit me admirably," I replied. "I will meet you by the train you mention, and the affair shall have my best attention." "Thank you," he said, rising. He shook hands with me and took his leave. The next day I met Bainbridge at Paddington Station, and we were soon flying westward in the luxurious private compartment that had been reserved for him. I could see by his abstracted manner and his long lapses of silence that the mysterious affair at Felwyn Tunnel was occupying all his thoughts. It was two o'clock in the afternoon when the train slowed down at the little station of Felwyn. The station-master was at the door in an instant to receive us. "I have some terribly bad news for you, sir," he said, turning to Bainbridge as we alighted; "and yet in one sense it is a relief, for it seems to clear Wynne."