With an observant eye and a careful ear Aldean overhauled the box outside and in. He rapped at the sides, pushing here and tugging there; but, so far as he could see, there was no hollow space either at the sides or below. The chest was plainly made of five thick slabs, which sounded dead and dull when he tapped them. Then Aldean turned his attention to the lid, which was clasped with two broad brass bands dividing it into three equal spaces. These were carved in the laborious Chinese way with impossible flowers and stiffly flying birds. "Rum thing," muttered Jim, shaking the lid. "Looks like an overgrown glove-box." Round the lid ran a deep rim, fitting down on to the lower portion of the box when locked; and, on examination of the inner side of this, Aldean found a row of brass nails--ostensibly mere ornaments. With infinite patience he pressed every one of the decorations hard. He found that one behind the hasp yielded with difficulty to pressure. Two other nails, one near each end of the lid, proved equally loose. Jim pressed and pressed all three, until suddenly with a click the whole inner skin of the lid fell down, and between this and the top there proved to be a narrow space extending to all four sides. With the lid fell a long blue envelope, sealed with a coat-of-arms in red wax. "Clever dodge," said Jim, picking up the envelope and admiring the workmanship which so skilfully concealed the space in the lid. "But a chap could hide only thin things in it; there's no room for anything else." He looked at the envelope. "The Rev. Manners Brock, Casterwell," he read. "Jupiter! that's queer. Wonder what's inside? feels like dozens of pages. 'Spose this is a letter from Carson, senior, to his old friend. Wonder why Carson, junior, hid it so carefully?" While he was turning it over, his fingers itching to break the seal, and see if the contents could in any way explain the mystery of Carson's death, Olive came hurriedly into the room. Without stopping to comment on the disordered floor, or the extraordinary figure of Lord Aldean grovelling before the chest with the blue envelope in his hand, she burst out into excited speech the moment she saw him. "Lord Aldean, they have gone away--Clara and Boldini. They left the hotel last night about nine o'clock!" "I'm not astonished," replied Jim, getting on to his legs. "Where have they gone to?" "The people at the hotel couldn't tell me," said Olive, exasperated somewhat at his calm reception of the news. "They paid their bill, packed their things, and went off in a cab to the Central Station. A porter wanted to go with them and look after their luggage, but Clara would not allow him. They have gone!' "Best thing they could do, Miss Bellairs. Dare say they are afraid of the Anarchists tracking them here. Wonder where they have cleared to?"