“Yes, I am here, as you see, Mr. Drayton,” answered Edith. “To what circumstance do I owe the honour of a second visit from you?” “Sorry to have to confess it, ma’am, but there was one part of the house which we seem to have quite overlooked when we were here last. You won’t, perhaps, object to our having a look at it now?” “My objections, I am afraid, would be of little value. I have no option but to submit.” “I must do my duty, you know, ma’am. Very disagreeable it is to do at times, I assure you.” “Doubtless, very. Martha, show these gentlemen whatever part of the house they may wish to see.” With these words Edith went back into the parlour, but this time she did not shut the door. Mr. Drayton was followed into the house by Wigley, the cabinet-maker; and the rear was brought up by a constable in plain clothes. “Upstairs, if you please,” said the superintendent to Martha. “I am quite satisfied with the downstairs part of the house.” So upstairs they all tramped, and without pausing, Drayton led the way into Edith’s dressing-room. Wigley’s first mention of the wardrobe had brought to his recollection the fact of there being such a piece of furniture as the one described in one of the upstairs rooms. Now that the moment for making the grand discovery was at hand, it would have been difficult to say whether the excitement of Drayton or of Wigley was the more intense. The latter was lured on by the prospect of the glittering reward that would become his, if, through his instrumentality, the escaped prisoner should be recaptured. Drayton was led on by a purely professional ardour. To succeed where the great Whiffins from Scotland Yard had failed, even though that success were won by a fluke, and by no brilliant stroke of his own genius, was in itself something to be proud of—something that would bring his name prominently before the notice of his superiors. “This is the article that I’ve been speaking to you about,” said Wigley, striking the polished surface of the wardrobe with his open palm. “Open it, Mr. Wigley, if you please,” said the superintendent. “This is a very curious piece of furniture, indeed, and I should like to examine it thoroughly.” So Wigley proceeded to open it slowly and lovingly, as a man having a deep admiration for the work of his own hands. First the outer doors were flung wide open, revealing a few empty garments drooping drearily from the pegs. But when Mr. Wigley, with a solemn finger, touched the secret spring, and the false back swung slowly open on its secret hinges, the three men pressed forward with beating pulses and staring eyes, feeling sure that in another moment the great prize would be in their grasp. Drayton’s fingers closed instinctively on the handcuffs in his pocket, while Martha Vince looked on from the background with a cynical smile. The false back swung slowly open, and revealed the hiding-place behind. But it was empty.