Cleek's equanimity did not desert him, however. It was one of his strong points that he always kept his mental balance even when his most promising theories were deracinated. He therefore showed not the slightest trace of the disappointment with which this utterly unexpected discovery had filled him, but, with the most placid exterior imaginable, suffered himself to be introduced to the old waxworker, who was at the time working assiduously upon the huge tableau-piece designed for the forthcoming Indian Exhibition, a well-executed assembly of figures which occupied a considerable portion of the rear end of the glass-room, and represented that moment when the relief force burst through the stockade at Lucknow and came to the rescue of the beleaguered garrison. "A couple of gentlemen from Scotland Yard, Loti, who have come to look into the matter of young Colliver's disappearance," was the way in which Trent made that introduction. "You can go on with your work; they won't interfere with you." "Welcome, gentlemen--most welcome," said Loti, with that courtesy which Continental people never quite forget; then nodded, and went on with his work as he had been told, adding, with a mournful shake of the head: "Ah! a strange business that, signori; an exceedingly strange business." "Very," agreed Cleek off-handedly and from the other end of the room. "Rippin' quarters, these, signor; and now that I've seen 'em I don't mind confessing that my pet theory has gone all to smash and I'm up a gum-tree, so to speak. I'd an idea, you know, that there might be a sliding-panel or a trapdoor which you chaps here might have overlooked, and down which the boy might have dropped, or maybe gone on a little explorin' expedition of his own, don't you know, and hadn't been able to get back." "Well, of all the idiotic ideas--," began Trent, but was suffered to get no further. "Yes, isn't it?" agreed Cleek, with his best blithering-idiot air. "I realize that, now that I see your floor's of concrete. Necessary, I suppose, on account of the chemicals and the inflammable nature of the wax? You could have a rippin' old flare-up here if that stuff was to catch fire from a dropped match or anything of that sort--eh, what? Blest if I can see"--turning slowly on his heel and looking all round the room--"a ghost of a place where the young nipper could have got. It's a facer for me. But, I say"--as if suddenly struck with an idea--"you don't think that he nipped something valuable and cut off with it, do you? Didn't miss any money or anything of that sort which you'd left lying about, did you, Mr.--er--Lotus, eh?"