"I say," he said, "how dark it is here! You must conduct me, Charliewood, up this path. Let me take your arm." He took his friend's arm, noticing with wonder how the cold seemed to have penetrated the bones of his host; for the big man's whole body was trembling. The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked for thirty yards or so. Then Rathbone saw a dim light above his head. It was the lamp which hung in the porch. His feet knocked against the step. "Here we are," Charliewood said; "six steps, and then the front door." Once more Charliewood produced a key, opened the massive door of the hall, and entered with his friend. "Take off your coat," he said, as Rathbone looked round wonderingly at the big, gloomy and dimly-lit place. "This is rather miserable, but Gouldesbrough has got a little snuggery down the passage, where we shall be quite comfortable. Are you ready? Very well, then, come along." The house seemed absolutely still, save for Charliewood's echoing footsteps as he led the way towards the door on the right-hand side of the wide staircase. Rathbone followed him. As he did so the sombre emptiness of the place began to steal over his nerves and influence them, coupled, no doubt, with the expectation of the coming interview. He shuddered a little, and wished that he was back again in the cosy little room in Jermyn Street. Then a green baize door opened, they passed through, and it swung back noiselessly behind them. CHAPTER VII ENGLAND'S GREAT SENSATION In the course of a week or so London, and shortly afterwards the whole of England, realized that a new and absorbing sensation was dawning. Perhaps there is nothing which more excites the popular mind than the sudden disappearance of anybody from whatever class of society.