"I reached the lavatory all right--you were with me then, weren't you?" Graham said reflectively. "I hung up my coat while I washed, but there was no one else in the room. Then you went downstairs and I brushed my hair and just stopped to light a cigarette. You know that on the right-hand side of the landing there is a room where the musicians change. Joseph, that black devil, was standing in the doorway. He grinned as I came into sight. 'Lady wants to speak to you for a moment, Captain Graham,' he said. Well, you know how harmless the fellow looks--just a good-natured, smiling nigger. I never dreamed of anything wrong. As a matter of fact, I thought that Peggy Vincent--that's a young lady I often go to Henry's with--wanted to have a word with me before I joined our party. I stepped inside the room, and that's just about all I can remember. It must have been jolly quick. His arm shot round my neck, the door was closed, and that other brute--Hassan, I think it was--held something over my face." "But that room was searched," Lutchester reminded him. "Well I came to just a little," Graham explained, "I found that I was in a sort of cupboard place, behind the lockers these fellows have for their clothes. It opens with a spring lock, and you'd never notice it, searching the room." "Who was the first person you saw when you recovered consciousness?" Graham's forehead was wrinkled in the effort to remember. "I can't quite get hold of it," he confessed, "but I have a sort of fancy I can't altogether get rid of that there was a woman about." Lutchester looked at the end of the cigarette he had just lit. "A woman?" he repeated. "That's queer." "I can't remember anything definitely until I woke up in that chapel," Graham continued, "but when they searched me and found that the pocketbook had gone, Fischer, the big American, muttered some woman's name. I was queer just at the moment, but it sounded very much to me like Miss Van Teyl's. He rang her up on the telephone." "Did they suspect Miss Van Teyl, then, of having taken your pocketbook?" Graham shook his head. "I lost the drift of things just then," he admitted. "She couldn't have done, in any case. Forgive me, but aren't we wasting time, Mr. Lutchester? We must do something. Couldn't you ring up Scotland Yard now?" "I certainly could," Lutchester assented, "but, as I told you just now, I don't think that I will." Graham stared at him. "But why not?" "For certain very definite reasons with which you needn't trouble yourself just now," Lutchester pronounced. "The formula has gone, without a doubt, but it certainly isn't in the hands of any of the people at Henry's." "But there's that American fellow--Fischer!" Graham exclaimed. "He was the ringleader!" "Just so," Lutchester murmured thoughtfully. "However, he hasn't got the formula."