"No sound of a struggle, I mean," said T. B., and then it was that he explained to Frank Doughton the extraordinary disappearance of the owner of Moor Cottage. "She must be in the house," said Frank. They went back and resumed their search. Upstairs was a bedroom, and adjoining a bath-room. On the ground floor were two rooms: the study he had quitted and a smaller room beautifully decorated and containing a piano. But the search was fruitless; Lady Constance Dex had disappeared as though the earth had opened and swallowed her up. There was no sign of a trap in the whole of the little building, and T. B. was baffled. "It is a scientific axiom," he said, addressing Ela with a thoughtful glint in his eye, "that matter must occupy space, therefore Lady Constance Dex must be in existence, she cannot have evaporated into thin air, and I am not going to leave this place until I find her." Ela was thinking deeply, and frowning at the untidiness of the table. "Do you remember that locket which you found on one of the dead men in Brakely Square?" he asked suddenly. T. B. nodded. He put his hand in his waistcoat pocket, for he had carried that locket ever since the night of its discovery. "Let us have a look at the inscription again," said Ela. They drew up chairs to the table and examined the little circular label which they had found in the battered interior. "Mor: Cot. God sav the Keng." Ela shook his head helplessly. "I am perfectly sure there is a solution here," he said. "Do you see those words on the top? 'Mor: Cot.'--that stands for Moor Cottage." "By Jove, so it does," said T. B., picking up the locket; "that never struck me before. It was the secret of Moor Cottage which this man discovered, and with which he was trying to blackmail our friend. So far as the patriotic postscript is concerned that is beyond my understanding." "There is a meaning to it," said Ela, "and it is not a cryptogram either. You see how he has forgotten to put the 'e' in 'save'? And he has spelt 'king' 'keng.'" They waited before the house whilst Brown drove to the rectory, and then on to the town. Jeremiah Bangley arrived in a state of calm anticipation. That his sister had disappeared did not seem to strike him as a matter for surprise, though he permitted himself to say that it was a very remarkable occurrence. "I have always warned Constance not to be here alone, and I should never have forgiven myself if Brown had not been on the spot," he said. "Can you offer any explanation?" The rector shook his head. He was totally ignorant of the arrangements of the house, had never, so he said, put foot in it in his life. This was perfectly true, for he was an incurious man who did not greatly bother himself about the affairs of other people. The local police arrived in half an hour, headed by the chief inspector, who happened to be in the station when the report was brought in.