Thornton nodded in agreement. "I can't understand how it got locked," he muttered. "How the devil can I get it open? It is English quartered oak." "Is there any way of entering the room by a window?" asked Douglas. "No, it's too high from the ground, and there's nothing but the bare brick wall to climb up; no tree grows near it," said Thornton thoughtfully. "And unfortunately I have no ladder long enough to reach the window." "Then there's nothing left but to try and force the door." Douglas braced his powerful shoulders against the panels until his muscles almost cracked under the strain. "Run against it," he gasped, perspiration trickling down his face; and Colonel Thornton obediently threw himself forward as the door gave slightly. "Again!" cried Douglas, and he threw his own weight on the panel, which yielded a little. "Once more," and with a rending crash the upper and weaker panel splintered sufficiently to allow Douglas to slip his hand inside and turn the key which was in the lock. He also shot back the rusty bolt with difficulty, and withdrew his hand. "Get the women back into their rooms," he whispered, his face showing white in the moonlight. "The room is full of escaping gas." Thornton gazed blankly at him for a second, then turned to Mrs. Truxton. "Kate, I insist upon your taking these girls to your room." She nodded understandingly, and he turned to Cynthia with an air of command. "Go with Mrs. Truxton, Cynthia. I promise to come instantly and tell you what we discover in this room." She nodded dumbly, past speech. The reaction had come, and Mrs. Truxton and Eleanor led her, unresisting, back to her room and helped her to bed, where she lay, her eyes pleading to be relieved from her mental anguish. Colonel Thornton and Douglas watched them until they disappeared inside the bedroom, then the latter opened the broken door of the locked room. An overpowering smell of illuminating gas choked them, and they drew back, gasping. Douglas stepped over to the hall window and threw up the sash, letting in the cool air. Then, holding his breath, he rushed inside the room and, locating the escaping gas jet by the overpowering odor, he reached up and turned off the cock of the wall bracket. "It's no use; we'll have to wait and give the gas a chance to evaporate," he said, returning to the Colonel's side. "Are you sure the room is unoccupied?" Thornton's eyes were half starting from his head. "Unoccupied?" he stammered. "It's been unoccupied for half a century. This is the southwest chamber, which is supposed to be haunted by my great-aunt. A dog won't sleep there."