Looking down, Ephraim saw with dismay that there was quite a little pool of blood on the floor by this time. He had no means of cleaning it up, and was utterly at a loss what to do. He tied his handkerchief round his hand, and stood thinking for a minute or two. At length he decided that he would leave the floor as it was for to-night, and come to the Bank an hour earlier than usual in the morning, when the woman who cleaned the offices would be at work. He would give her sixpence, and with her soft soap and scrubbing-brush she would quickly efface the stains from the floor; or, if by chance any signs still remained, a little ink spilled carefully over the place would effectually hide them. Five minutes by daylight would suffice to so re-arrange the contents of the drawer, that John, who was the most unsuspicious of mortals, would never find out that they had been disturbed. Having thus decided on his plan, Ephraim proceeded to re-lock the drawer, then he put on his overcoat, muffler and hat, and took possession of his stick, after which he turned off the gas. At the door he paused to listen, but all was silent. About half way along the main corridor, and nearly opposite the door of Mr. Hazeldine's office, was a spiral, iron staircase which gave access to certain upper rooms used as storerooms for old books and papers transferred from the offices below. Up this staircase mounted Ephraim Judd till he reached a certain height, and then he paused. Over Mr. Hazeldine's door was a fanlight which could be used as a ventilator if so required. From his perch on the stairs Ephraim could see through the fanlight into the interior of the office. He could see, too, as previous experience had taught him, Mr. Hazeldine's table as well as Mr. Hazeldine himself, if that gentleman happened to be seated at it. He was so seated now, and for a space of about a dozen seconds Ephraim's eyes seemed as though they would transfix him. "What can he be after? What is he going to do?" he muttered to himself in genuine surprise, and with somewhat of a scared look on his face. But there was no time for further prying. He heard Sweet's footsteps ascending the stairs from the lower premises. Half a minute later, and he had opened one of the big outer doors and had let himself into the street. He set off homeward in a more thoughtful mood than ordinary. Twice he turned to look at the lighted windows of Mr. Hazeldine's office. With the exception of them and the fanlight over the main entrance, the building was in darkness; Sweet's rooms in the basement having windows that looked the opposite way. His tea was waiting for him when he reached home. After he had partaken of it he sat awhile, puzzling himself over a chess problem in a magazine; then he decided that he would go for a walk. He had not gone far before John Brancker nearly ran against him at the corner of a street. "Hallo! Mr. B., whoever thought of meeting you at this time of night?" cried Ephraim.