I felt that it was time I had a word to say on my own account. "On the whole," I decided, "I have seen as much as I care to of these proceedings. I will find my way back again and await your return, Baroness." The man laughed scornfully. No art of mine could conceal the scowl which disfigured his face. "Too late, Mr. Englishman," he said. "You know too much. Remain where you are." I looked down the muzzle of a particularly unpleasant-looking revolver, which instinct told me the man at the other end would not hesitate to use. At the same time I heard the sharp click of the door being closed behind me. "Quite unnecessary," I declared, waving my hand towards the revolver. "If you wish me to stay, I am entirely at your service. In fact, to tell you the truth," I went on, "I am beginning to feel a certain amount of curiosity about this enterprise." Sara's reputed brother laughed harshly. "You'll have time to get over that," he said. Warned by his tone, Sara stepped out of the shadows of the room. "He is not to be hurt!" she exclaimed. "That was a promise." There was silence. The room in which we were was unlit save by the little points of fire from the electric torches carried by the Baroness and her companion. There was something sinister in the sound of their soft breathing against the background of deep and solemn stillness. Suddenly a tongue of light flashed from Sara's own torch. I saw then that the others were too much engrossed to be even considering my fate. With a tape measure in his hand, the man was tapping certain places upon the wall. Presently he made a mark with a pencil and turned around. His face was livid with excitement. "Nothing seems to have been touched here," he muttered. "Nothing has been touched," the Baroness assented calmly. "Other rooms, as you know, have been ransacked, the grounds have been dug up, and the tower almost pulled to pieces. But here, where you sat in state and pulled the legs out of the spiders' bodies and the souls out of your poor human victims, well, no one has thought of looking here." The man chuckled, but there was a certain malevolent uneasiness in his expression as he stared at the speaker. "My victims were not all unwilling, eh?" he demanded. The Baroness had been feeling along the wall. She touched a switch, and a dull glow of light shone through a dust-encrusted globe set in the ceiling. "There is still a connection," she said. "It is better so? You need have no fear. The shutters are tightly closed. No one will know that human beings have dared to penetrate into the spider's parlour." I had my first comprehensive view of the room--a bare, official-looking apartment, with a huge writing table near the window, a heap of empty champagne bottles and cigar boxes in one corner. There was dust everywhere. It seemed, indeed, as though the room might not have been opened for many months.