‘No, sir; that end of the house belongs, I believe, to Henry the Eighth’s time. That staircase is built in what was once a great square chimney—the chimney of the old banqueting-hall, in fact; for there was a banqueting-hall in Cedar House in Henry the Eighth’s time, though there’s nothing left of it now; that end is clean gone, except the said chimney. I got an architect to look over the place once for the Miss Chadwicks, my clients, with a view to reparation; but the reparations mounted up so, that when the elder Miss Chadwick got the specification she wrote and told me she and her sister would sooner have the place pulled down at once, and sold for building materials, than lay out such a lot of money; for they are rather close, are the Miss Chadwicks. The architect didn’t seem to think that old chimney over safe either, on account of their having pulled down the hall, and took away its supports, in a measure. “But it’ll last our time, I daresay,” says he; “and if it falls it’s bound to fall outwards, where it can’t hurt anybody.” For, as I daresay you are aware, there’s only a bit of waste ground—a cat-walk, as you may say—on that side of the house.’ ‘Rather a hazardous condition though for a house to be left in,’ said Lucius, thinking that this would give him a new incentive to find a better home for Lucille speedily. ‘Then you don’t know why that staircase was built, nor who built it?’ ‘Well, no, sir; I can’t say I do. I’ve often wondered about it. You see, the staircase may not have been a secret one in the first instance, but may have been converted to a means of escape in the troublesome times that came later. There is no allusion to it in any of the deeds belonging to the house.’ ‘You spoke just now of my inquiry being curious,’ said Lucius after a pause; ‘why was that?’ ‘I thought it rather strange that you should make an inquiry about Cedar House, because some six weeks ago I had another gentleman here who made the same inquiry.’ ‘About the staircase?’ ‘No, he didn’t inquire about the staircase. I told him about that afterwards, in the course of conversation, and he seemed struck by the fact. We had a good bit of talk together, first and last, for he was a very free and open kind of a gentleman, and had just come from Australia, or America, I really forget which, and he insisted on standing a bottle of champagne—a thing I shouldn’t have cared to partake of in the middle of the day, if he hadn’t been so pressing.’ ‘What kind of man was he?’ asked Lucius, burning with impatience. ‘Well, a good-looking fellow enough, but rather peculiar-looking with it. Tall and thin, with a sallow complexion, and the blackest eyes and hair I ever saw in a European. The hair grew in a little peak on his forehead, such as I’ve heard some facetious folks call a widower’s peak. It was rather noticeable.’ ‘The very man!’ muttered Lucius. ‘Do you know the gentleman, sir?’