“Some pillows and a blanket, Mr. Klaw?” suggested the suddenly attentive Mr. Grimsby. “I thank you, no,” was the reply. “They would be saturated with alien impressions. My cushion it is odically sterilized! The ‘etheric storm’ created by Conway’s last mental emotion reaches my brain unpolluted. Good-night, gentlemen. Good-night, Isis!” We withdrew, leaving Moris Klaw to his ghostly vigil. “I suppose Mr. Klaw is quite trustworthy?” whispered Coram to the detective. “Oh, undoubtedly!” was the reply. “In any case, he can do no harm. My men will be on duty downstairs here all night.” “Do you speak of my father, Mr. Grimsby?” came a soft, thrilling voice. Grimsby turned, and met the flashing black eyes of Isis Klaw. “I was assuring Mr. Coram,” he answered, readily, “that Mr. Klaw’s methods have several times proved successful!” “Several times!” she cried, scornfully. “What! has he ever failed?” Her accent was certainly French, I determined; her voice, her entire person, was certainly charming--to which the detective’s manner bore witness. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with all his cases, miss,” he said. “Can I call you a cab?” “I thank you, no.” She rewarded him with a dazzling smile. “Good-night.” Coram opened the doors of the Museum, and she passed out. Leaving the men on duty in the hall, Coram and I shortly afterward also quitted the Museum by the main entrance, in order to avoid disturbing Moris Klaw by using the curator’s private door. To my friend’s study Hilda Coram brought us coffee. She was unnaturally pale, and her eyes were feverishly bright. I concluded that the tragedy was responsible. “Perhaps, to an extent,” said Coram; “but she is studying music and, I fear, overworking in order to pass a stiff exam.” Coram and I surveyed the Greek Room problem from every conceivable standpoint, but were unable to surmise how the thief had entered, how left, and why he had fled without his booty. “I don’t mind confessing,” said Coram, “that I am very ill at ease. We haven’t the remotest idea how the murderer got into the Greek Room or how he got out again. Bolts and bars, it is evident, do not prevail against him, so that we may expect a repetition of the dreadful business at any time!” “What precautions do you propose to take?” “Well, there will be a couple of police on duty in the Museum for the next week or so, but, after that, we shall have to rely upon a night watchman. The funds only allow of the appointment of four attendants: three for day and one for night duty.” “Do you think you’ll find any difficulty in getting a man?” “No,” replied Coram. “I know of a steady man who will come as soon as we are ready for him.” I slept but little that night, and was early afoot and around to the Museum. Isis Klaw was there before me, carrying the red cushion, and her father was deep in conversation with Coram. Detective-Inspector Grimsby approached me.