She followed close at his heels. He went into every room, lit the gas, looked about, and found nothing. Lexy grew confused with the opening and closing of doors, the sudden flare of light in the darkness, the succession of empty rooms. He went up into the cupola. Nothing there, nor in the servants’ rooms. Then downstairs, through the long library, the dining room, the sitting room, the kitchen, the pantry. He proceeded with a sort of merciless deliberation, opened every door, looked into every cupboard. Finding a stable lantern in the kitchen, he lighted it and carried it with him. The door to the cellar stood open. He went through it, down the steep wooden stairs, and Lexy followed him. To her exhausted and frightened gaze the cellar seemed enormous—as vast and august as some great ancient tomb. The lantern made a little pool of light, and outside it the shadows closed in on them thickly. She came near to him and caught him by the sleeve. “Oh, let’s go away!” she cried. “Let’s go away! We’ve looked—” “This is the last place,” he said gently. “After this, we’ll give it up.” Fighting down the sick terror that had come over her, she walked beside him in the little circle of light, and tried not to look at the shadows. “What’s that?” he exclaimed. “Oh, what?” she cried. He went back a few paces and set down the lantern. Then he advanced again and bent over, staring at the floor. “Do you see?” he asked. She did see. A narrow strip of light lay along the floor. “It comes up from below,” he said. “There must be a subcellar. Let’s see!” He brought back the lantern and examined the floor by its light, going down on his hands and knees. “Stand back!” he said suddenly. “It’s a trapdoor. See—here’s a ring to lift it.” Captain Grey pulled at the ring, but nothing happened. “I’m on the wrong side,” he said. Moving over, he pulled again, and a square of stone lifted. A clear light came from below, showing a short ladder clamped to the floor. “Stay there, please,” he told Lexy. “You have the lantern. I shan’t be a minute.” But as soon as he had reached the foot of the ladder, Lexy climbed down after him; and just at the same moment, they saw— They were standing in a tiny room with roughly mortared walls. A powerful electric torch stood on end in one corner, and at their feet lay the body of a man, face downward across a wooden chest. It was Dr. Quelton. With a violent effort Captain Grey lifted the doctor’s heavy shoulder, while Lexy covered her eyes. She knew that he was dead. No living thing could lie so. Her head swam, her knees gave way, and she tottered back against the wall, half fainting, when the captain’s voice rang out, with a note of agony and despair that she never forgot. “My God! My God!” he wailed. “Oh, Muriel!” She opened her eyes. For a moment she was too giddy to see. Then, as her vision cleared, she saw him on his knees beside the chest.