"What would we find," he whispered, "if we went to the cemetery and looked again in the coffin?" "Why should he have come back at all?" Groom mused. Robinson opened the front door. "You know he might have gone this way." But already the snow had obliterated the signs of their own passage in and out. It showed no fresh marks. "Silas Blackburn has not gone that way in the body," Doctor Groom rumbled. The storm was more violent. It discouraged the idea of examining the graveyard again before morning. Robinson glanced at his watch. He led Bobby and the detective to the library. "Then try your scheme if you want," he said, "but understand I assume no responsibility. Honestly, I doubt if it amounts to anything. You'll shout out if you are attacked, or the moment you suspect any real cause for fear. Rawlins will be in the corridor, and I'll be in the library or wandering about the house--always within call. Rawlins will guard the broken door, but be sure and lock the other one." The two officers went upstairs with Bobby. Graham followed. "You understand," Robinson said. "I'd rather Paredes and the doctor didn't suspect what you are going to do. Change your mind before it's too late, if you want." Bobby walked on without replying. "You can't dissuade him," Graham said, "because of what will happen to-morrow unless the truth is discovered to-night." In the upper hall they found Katherine waiting. Her endeavours were hard to face. "You shan't go there for me, Bobby," she said. "Isn't it clear I must go in my own service?" he said, trying to smile. He wouldn't speak to her again. He wouldn't look at her. Her anxiety and the affection in her eyes weakened him, and he needed all his strength, for at the entrance of the dark, narrow corridor the fear met him. Rawlins brought a candle and guided him down the corridor. Graham came, too. The detective locked the door leading to the private hall and slipped the key in his pocket. "Nobody will get through there any more than they will through the other door which I'll watch." With Graham's help he made a quick inspection of the room, searching the closets and glancing beneath the bed and behind the furniture. "There's no one," he said, preparing to depart. "I tell you there's no chance of a physical attack." His unimaginative mind cried out. "I tell you you'll find nothing, learn nothing, for there's nothing here to find, nothing to learn." "Just the same," Graham urged, "you'll call out, won't you, Bobby, at the first sign of anything out of the way? For God's sake take no foolish chances." "I don't want the light," Bobby forced himself to say. "My grandfather and Howells both put their candles out. I want everything as it was when they were attacked." Rawlins nodded and, followed by Graham, carried the candle from the room and closed the broken door.