Mr. Stone was mistaken. On the following morning, the breakfast-room was found by Lettice in exactly the same state of confusion. The furniture dragged about, the ornaments moved from the mantelpiece, the bills and papers opened, as before. Miss Deveen was very silent over it, and said in the hearing of the servants that she should have to carry the grievance to Scotland Yard. And I'm sure I thought she set out to do it. The carriage came to the door in the course of the morning. Miss Deveen, who was ready dressed, passed over the others, and asked me to go with her. "Do you know what I'm going to do, Johnny?" she questioned, as George took his place on the box and the fat old coachman gave the word to his horses. "I think I do, Miss Deveen. We are going to Scotland Yard." "Not a bit of it, Johnny," she said. "My opinion has come round to Mr. Policeman Stone's--that we must look indoors for the disturber. I have brought you out with me to talk about it. It is a great mystery--for I thought I could have trusted the servants and all the rest of you with my life." It was a mystery--and no mistake. "A great mystery," repeated Miss Deveen; "a puzzle; and I want you to help me to unravel it, Johnny. I intend to sit up to-night in the breakfast-room. But not being assured of my nerves while watching in solitude for thieves, or ghosts, or what not, I wish you to sit up with me." "Oh, I shall like it, Miss Deveen." "I have heard of houses being disturbed before in a similar manner," she continued. "There was a story in the old days of the Cock-Lane ghost: I think that was something of the same kind, but my memory is rather cloudy on the point. Other cases I know have been traced to the sudden mania, solely mischievous or otherwise, of some female inmate. I hope it will not turn out to have been Lettice herself." "Shall I watch without you, Miss Deveen?" "No, no; you will bear me company. We will make our arrangements now, Johnny--for I do not intend that any soul shall know of this; not even Miss Cattledon. You will keep counsel, mind, like the true and loyal knight you are." * * * * * The house had gone to rest. In the dark breakfast-room sat Miss Deveen and I, side by side. The fire was dying away, and it gave scarcely any light. We sat back against the wall between the fireplace and the door, she in one armchair, I in another. The secretary was opposite the fire, the key in the lock as usual; the window, closed and barred, lay to the left, the door to the right, a table in the middle. An outline of the objects was just discernible in the fading light. "Do you leave the key in the secretary as a rule, Miss Deveen?" I asked in a whisper. "Yes. There's nothing in it that any one would care to look at," she replied in the same cautious tone. "My cash-box is generally there, but that is always locked. But I think we had better not talk, Johnny."