"Yes, that’s just the point. There’s something very curious about the whole affair," declared the young man. "When your aunt is in bed, he goes up, evidently to take his friend food and drink. And yet he puts on a gown which makes him look—as you have described it—like a Spanish Inquisitor." "Only all in white. Why white?" "Can it be that the person upstairs is not self-imprisoned?" suggested the young man, as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Can it be that whoever is confined there is without proper mental balance? Solitary confinement produces madness, remember. In Italy, where solitary confinement for life takes the place of capital punishment for murder, the criminal always ends his days as a lunatic—driven mad by that terrible loneliness which even a dog could not suffer." "That’s certainly quite another point of view," she remarked. "I hadn’t thought of that!" "Well, it is one to bear in mind," he said. "Your aunt, a most worthy lady, is devoted to Mr. Boyne and serves him well. For the present let her hold him in high esteem. In the meantime we will watch, and endeavour to solve this mystery, Marigold." Hardly had the words left his mouth, when the old lady entered the room with two cups of tea upon a brass tray. "There!" she said, addressing Marigold. "I know you like a cup o’ tea at this hour of the evening, and I hope, Mr. Durrant, it will be to your liking. Mr. Boyne often has a cup out of my teapot if he gets home before I go to bed." "It’s awfully good of you, auntie," the girl declared. "I know Mr. Durrant highly appreciates it." "That’s all right," laughed the old lady. "I’ll soon be going to bed. It’s near ten o’clock now." Gerald glanced at his wrist-watch and saw that it was just ten. Then, when Mrs. Felmore had gone, he said to the girl: "Hadn’t we better be going? Boyne will be back soon." "Right," she said, drinking her tea daintily. "I’ll go down and unfasten the basement door. Auntie has no doubt bolted it. Then, when she’s gone to bed, we can get in again." And a few moments later she left him. Five minutes later she reappeared, followed by Mrs. Felmore. "Auntie is going to bed," she said. "We must be off, Gerald." The young man rose, smiled pleasantly, and shook the deaf woman’s hand in farewell. Then, a few moments later, the young pair descended the front steps and left the house. About ten minutes later, however, they returned to it, slipping unobserved down the area steps. Marigold turned the handle of the door, and in the darkness they both entered the kitchen, where they waited eagerly, without lighting the gas, and conversing only in whispers. Mrs. Felmore had gone upstairs, and stone-deaf that she was, would hear no noise below. She had left the gas turned low in the hall in readiness for her master’s return, retiring fully satisfied with the appearance and manners of the young man to whom her niece had that night introduced her.