Lois was out of bed now, and had switched on the little lamp that stood on the table by the bedside. She looked up fearfully at the canopy. It had the heavy, respectable appearance which all such articles of furnishing have. Lois had a wild idea that a door had been left open, but the only door in the room was that which led to the corridor and it was locked, as she knew. “What was it, Lois?” Lizzy was struggling into her dressing-gown. “I don’t know. I heard somebody speaking. It seemed to be in the room.” “It came from the direction of your bed,” said Lizzy. “Lord! This is a queer house. I don’t like it, Lois. I’d sooner have old Mackenzie and his fiddle any day or any night.” Lois Reddle jumped on to the bed, lifted the table lamp and began an examination of the valance above. Presently she uttered an exclamation. In one corner, suspended by two wires, was a black, bell-shaped piece of ebonite, which at first she thought was a telephone receiver. Behind was a flat and circular box, and this was wired to the canopy. “That is where the voice came from; it’s a loud-speaking telephone!” She found the wire; it was cunningly hidden along the valance, descending one of the bed-posts, where it ran in a red flex to a wall-plug. The mystery was a mystery no longer, and now she understood the agitation of Lord Moron. She appreciated, too, his skill as an electrical engineer. He had been spying on his mother, if such a term applied to one who heard rather than saw. Somewhere in the house, probably in the drawing-room, was a concealed microphone, and too late that night he had remembered that he had not disconnected the instrument. Lady Moron was puzzled as to how her son knew so much. Lois could have told her. “What a bird!” said Lizzy admiringly. “Fixed it all up himself! The boy’s got brains! What did you hear, Lois?” But the girl was not inclined to be communicative. She pulled out the plug from the wall, sent her companion to bed, and followed her example. Whose photograph was it that had been placed for her inspection? And what risk had Lady Moron taken? She remembered the picture of the handsome young officer who was “a boy I once knew” to her ladyship. And what risk had the woman run in leaving that under her secretary’s eyes. She got out of bed again and re-fixed the plug, feeling that she was being guilty of a despicable act. But something was happening which was so vital to her, that she could not afford to allow niceties of conduct to weigh against her need. No sound came from the microphone. But perhaps after supper they would return here. And, in any event, the weariness and monotony of waiting might induce the sleep which refused to come to her eyes. Three o’clock struck, half-past three, four and half-past, and the chill of dawn began to show on the white blinds. Lois was not as far from sleep as she had been, and she was beginning to doze when a faint sound brought up her head from the pillow. Click, click!