Effingham's countenance of shining ebony took on the ashy tinge peculiar to his race under the emotional stress of fright or duress. "Nebber heard of 'im," he said quickly, and relapsed into wary silence. "You know me," continued Warriner, "and what I can put on you if you don't obey me and answer my questions. Where is it?" Effingham's knees shook in visible terror. Professor Warriner enjoyed a wide reputation among the colored folk as a dealer in "cunjers" and other forbidden arts; was not his physical laboratory the veritable anteroom to the infernal regions. The old negro, torn between superstitious fears and his inherited sense of loyalty to the Hildebrand family, trembled and gasped as he tried to face his terrible inquisitor. "Whuffer you pick on ole Effingham?" he protested feebly. "I doan know nuffin 'bout any secret doah." "Do what the gentleman tells you, Effingham." The voice was quiet and controlled, and yet there was an undertone of emotional vibration in it; I turned and saw Miss Trevor, who had entered the room unbidden and unannounced. I thought that John Thaneford looked both angry and dismayed, but he did not attempt to exercise his official authority. "Yessum," returned Effingham with cheerful alacrity. Since one of the ladies of the family had assumed the responsibility it was not for him to offer any further objection. He went over to the right side of the great fireplace and touched a spring in the paneling; a door, just high and wide enough to accommodate an ordinary sized person, swung open. "Nothing very romantic about this door," commented Miss Trevor. "It is merely a short cut to the terrace and gardens, besides being a convenient means of avoiding uncongenial visitors. But I don't think Mr. Graeme often used it, and none of the servants, except Effingham, are even aware of its existence." We all crowded around the secret entrance. The short passage turned sharply to the left behind the massive bulk of the chimney breast; we caught just a glimpse of a second and outer door, strongly built and banded with stout iron. Warriner stepped forward and entered the passage, reappearing almost immediately. "The outside door is unlocked," he said. "But that doesn't prove anything of itself. Before proceeding further I think it would be wise to examine the exterior situation." I happened to catch Miss Trevor's eye, and I could have sworn that a spark of relief-cum-triumph burned there for the infinitesimal part of a second. We trooped into the hall and left the house in order to gain the library terrace. There was the door, cleverly masked by vines, in a corner of the chimney stack. Moreover, its wooden surface had been veneered with stucco, colored and lined to simulate the brick of the chimney; the deception was quite good enough to pass casual inspection. "The vines don't count for much," said Warriner. "Easy to push them aside. But hullo! what's that?"