Without passing into the sitting-room, he went straight upstairs to the mysterious apartment in which the hooded figure lived in secret. First, he placed his handkerchief over his mouth, and then, opening the door, passed in and switched on an electric torch which he produced from his pocket. Without hesitation he unlocked the heavy bag, and took therefrom a long narrow deal box, which he opened, apparently to make certain that nothing was broken within, and then, placing it upon a table, drew down a little electric switch which was fitted at one end of the box. Afterwards, scarcely looking around, he left the room, relocked the door, and crept out of the house without anyone having seen or heard him, old Mrs. Felmore being quite unconscious of her master’s secret visit. Back at the end of Hammersmith Bridge, Boyne glanced at his watch; then, chuckling to himself, he hurried to the police-station, in order to watch Marigold farther in case she had not already left. When the girl had told the sergeant on duty the reason of her visit, she was passed upstairs into a room, where she was seen by the Inspector of the Criminal Investigation Department attached to the Division, a clean-shaven, fresh-complexioned man, who listened to her story very attentively. From time to time he took notes of names and addresses. "Have you any of the telegrams which the missing man sent you?" he asked presently. From her handbag she produced two of the messages, which he read carefully. "And since the twenty-third of last month you’ve not seen him?" he asked. "No," replied the girl. "And in Mincing Lane they have heard nothing since the receipt of the last telegram?" "Nothing—neither has his sister." The inspector looked her straight in the face, and said: "I presume, Miss Ramsay, that this gentleman was a particular friend of yours, eh?" Marigold blushed slightly and responded in the affirmative. "Is there any reason you suspect why he should have gone away so suddenly? Did you—well, did you quarrel with him, for instance?" "Not in the least. We were the best of friends," she answered. "I came here to ask whether you could assist me in finding him." The clean-shaven man drew his breath, and gravely shook his head. "I fear that we shall be unable to help you," he replied. "Why? He is missing. Surely the police can trace him!" she cried in disappointment. "No. He is _not_ missing," was his answer. "The fact that he sent those telegrams is sufficient to show that he is keeping out of the way for some purpose best known to himself. He has, no doubt, some secret from you." "Secret from me?" she echoed in dismay. "No, we both had a secret." The inspector only smiled. He, of course, thought she alluded to the fact that they were lovers.