Mr. Paley's house was in the centre of the jail. Paley, by the way, was the governor's name. The governor, when Mr. Murray arrived, was still in bed. He came down to the chief warder in rather primitive disarray. "Anything the matter, Murray?" "Yes, sir; there's something very much the matter, indeed." "What is it?" "We can't get any of the doors of the night-cells open." "You can't get--what?" "There seems to be something the matter with the locks." "The locks? All of them? Absurd!" "Well, there they are, and there's the men inside of them, and we can't get 'em out--at least I've tried my hand, and I know I can't." "I'll come with you at once, and see what you mean." Mr. Paley was as good as his word. He started off just as he was. As they were going, the chief warder made another remark. "By the way, there is one cell we managed to get open--I opened it myself." "I thought you said there was none?" "There's that one--it's that man Mankell." "Mankell? Who is he?" "He came in yesterday. It's that magician." When they reached the cells, it was easy to perceive that something was wrong. The warders hung about in twos and threes; the noise was deafening; the prisoners were keeping holiday. "Get me the keys and let me see what I can do. It is impossible that all the locks can have been tampered with." They presented Mr. Paley with the keys. In his turn he tried every lock in the jail This was not a work of a minute or two. The prison contained some three hundred night-cells. To visit them all necessitated not only a good deal of running up and down stairs, but a good deal of actual walking; for they were not only in different floors and in different blocks, but the prison itself was divided into two entirely separate divisions--north and south--and to pass from one division to the other entailed a walk of at least a hundred yards. By the time he had completed the round of the locks, Mr. Paley had had about enough of it. It was not surprising that he felt a little bewildered--not one of the locks had shown any more readiness to yield to him than to the others. In passing from one ward to the other, he had passed the row of day-cells in which was situated B 27. Here they found Oliver Mankell sitting in silent state awaiting the call to work. The governor pulled up at the sight of him. "Well, Mankell, so there was nothing the matter with the lock of your door?" Mankell simply inclined his head. "I suppose you know nothing about the locks of the other doors?" Again the inclination of the head. The man seemed to be habitually chary of speech. "What's the matter with you? Are you dumb? Can't you speak when you're spoken to?" This time Mankell extended the palms of his hands with a gesture which might mean anything or nothing. The governor passed on. The round finished, he held a consultation with the chief warder. "Have you any suspicions?" "It's queer." Mr. Murray stroked his bristly chin.