"Yes," he replied. "She tells me that her father went up to Edinburgh, but was suddenly called abroad upon business connected with one of his newly-patented chemical processes. She rang up Antonio, intending to leave a message for me." I stood listening to him, utterly dumbfounded. The young man was being misled. Had I not with my own eyes seen the poor girl lying cold and dead in the room downstairs? Besides, was it possible that she, who knew of her father's fate and had seen him lifeless, would tell her lover that great untruth! Could this be one of Kirk's ingenious subterfuges in order to gain time? "Then you are satisfied?" I managed at last to stammer. "To a certain degree, yes," he replied, looking at me with a good deal of surprise, I saw. "But it does not explain why Antonio is absent abroad, or--" "Gone to meet his master most probably," I interrupted. "Perhaps. But why has the laboratory been broken open; and, again, why has the furnace been lit? Who were the three persons who dined here this evening? The Professor is away!" "Miss Ethelwynn might have entertained two friends before leaving for Broadstairs," I suggested. "They were men. Ethelwynn does not smoke cigarettes." "Did she say whether she is returning to London?" I inquired. "She will let me know on the 'phone tomorrow." "She didn't tell you her father's whereabouts?" "She doesn't know. He's somewhere in Germany, she believes. He has been in communication with a strong German syndicate, which it seems has been formed in Hamburg to work one of his discoveries. And in his absence somebody has undoubtedly been prying into his experiments." "Somebody who you believe was disturbed by your ring at the door, eh?" "Exactly!" replied the young man, glancing at his watch. "But now, Mr. Holford, I think I shall go to my rooms. I'm tired after my journey. The Channel crossing was an exceptionally bad one this afternoon. You'll call and see me very soon, won't you?" I promised, and together we descended the stairs and left the silent house. By his side I walked out by Clarence Gate as far as Baker Street Station, where we shook hands and parted. After he had left me I halted on the kerb, utterly bewildered. It had dawned upon me that there was just a chance of discovering something further among the ashes of the furnace. The window, broken by the police, would afford an easy means of access. Now, and only now, was my chance of obtaining knowledge of the actual truth. Therefore I turned back again, and, loitering before the house, seized my chance when no one was nigh, opened the basement window and was again inside. In a few minutes I was again standing in the laboratory, over which the glowing furnace threw a red light. I dared not switch on the electricity, lest I should give warning to anybody watching outside, hence I was compelled to grope by the fitful firelight among the ashes.