‘Have you not sufficient accommodation here?’ ‘I wanted, as I was saying, a couple of rooms myself, and I had a fancy to take the two rooms once occupied by the deceased Featherstone. It was a morbid fancy, perhaps. The landlady seemed to think so. Anyhow, I took them. I entered into possession this afternoon, and locked the door.’ ‘Did you expect to see his ghost? Featherstone killed himself at the bank, not in his rooms.’ ‘I am aware of it, sir,’ said Oakley. ‘I did not expect to see his ghost; I merely wanted to look round.’ ‘Look round for what?’ ‘For anything interesting that I might be able to see.’ ‘But surely the police had searched?’ ‘Yes, but they had found nothing. And I knew how anxious you were to find out anything that might be discovered about Feather-stone’s suicide.’ ‘Was that your reason for taking the rooms?’ Simon Lock sneered. ‘Why not?’ said Oakley. ‘Why should it not have been my reason? I have always been loyal to you, sir.’ ‘Well, well, did you find anything interesting, any trace of evidence that might clear up the mystery?’ ‘There was apparently nothing in the rooms except the ordinary furniture of an ordinary lodging. In the bedroom a bed, a dressing-table, a washstand, a small table, a small wardrobe, two chairs, a small carpet, a few framed prints, and some nails behind the door. Nothing that could be called evidence. In the sitting-room--rather more elaborately furnished--were a dining-table, six chairs, an easy-chair, a firescreen, a large carpet, two footstools, a small sideboard, an old “Canterbury,” a mirror, some oleographs framed in German gold, and a few vases on the mantelpiece. Here is one of the vases.’ Mr. Oakley jumped from the table and took from Simon Lock’s own mantelpiece a small vase, whose intruding presence Simon Lock had not noticed there. Mr. Oakley handed it carefully to Mr. Lock. ‘Do you notice anything peculiar about it?’ he asked. Simon Lock examined the vase attentively. It was in the shape of a cylinder, about seven inches high and three inches in diameter, and evidently a Staffordshire imitation of classic pottery. The ground-colour of the exterior was a brilliant red, and on this red were depicted several classic figures in white, with black outlines. Round the top edge the vase had been gilded. The interior surface of the vase was highly glazed. ‘No,’ said Simon Lock, ‘I see nothing peculiar about it.’ ‘Neither did I at first, sir,’ said Mr. Oakley; ‘but see here.’ He wetted the end of his finger, and drew from the interior of the vase a roll of stiffish white writing-paper. ‘That roll of paper,’ he said, ‘must have been dropped into the vase, whereupon it widened out till it filled the vase. The width of the paper happened to be exactly the height of the vase, and so the paper looked exactly like the internal surface of the vase. The resemblance would deceive almost anyone. I thought, as you did, that the vase was absolutely empty, but it was not.’