“Oh, it was you, was it?” said the baronet, and seemed relieved. “Yes, he came to borrow money. I let him have fifty pounds, and he went away, and that’s the last I saw of him.” Michael looked at the sword again. “Would you be surprised to learn that Foss’s head has been picked up on Chobham Common?” he asked. The other turned a pair of cold, searching eyes upon his interrogator. “I should be very much surprised,” he said coolly. “If necessary, I have a witness to prove that Foss went, though I don’t like bringing in a lady’s name. Miss Stella Mendoza was here, having a bit of supper, as you probably know, if it was you in the next room. He left before she did.” “And he returned,” said Michael. “I never saw him again, I tell you,” said the baronet violently. “If you can find anybody who saw him come into this house after his first visit you can arrest me. Do you think _I_ killed him?” Michael did not answer. “There was a woman upstairs in the tower. What has become of her?” The other wetted his lips before he replied. “The only woman in the tower was a sick servant: she has gone.” “I’d like to see for myself,” said Michael. Only for a second did the man cast his eyes in the direction of Bhag’s den, and then: “All right,” he said. “Follow me.” He went out into the corridor and turned, not toward the hall but in the opposite direction. Ten paces farther down he stopped and opened a door, so cunningly set in the panelling, and so placed between the two shaded lights that illuminated the corridor, that it was difficult to detect its presence. He put in his hand, turned on a light, and Michael saw a long flight of stairs leading back toward the hall. As he followed the baronet, he realized that the “tower” was something of an illusion. It was only a tower if viewed from the front of the house. Otherwise it was an additional two narrow storeys built on one wing of the building. They passed through a door, up a circular staircase, and came to the corridor where Michael had seen Bhag squatting on the previous night. “This is the room,” said Penne, opening a door. CHAPTER XXIV THE MARKS OF THE BEAST “ON the contrary, it is not the room,” said Michael quietly. “The room is at the end of the passage.” The man hesitated. “Can’t you believe me?” he asked in an almost affable tone of voice. “What a sceptical chap you are! Now come, Brixan! I don’t want to be bad friends with you. Let’s go down and have a drink and forget our past animosities. I’m feeling rotten——” “I want to see that room,” said Michael. “I haven’t the key.” “Then get it,” said Michael sharply. Eventually the baronet found a pass-key in his pocket, and, with every sign of reluctance, he opened the door. “She went away in a bit of a hurry,” he said. “She was taken so ill that I had to get rid of her.”