"When you know that we are looking for Philip Salter, you need not be so much surprised that we have cast a thought to this house as Salter's possible occasional refuge, Mr. Smith." The very genuine astonishment that seized hold of Smith, pervading his every look, and word, and gesture, was enough to convince those who saw it that he was unprepared for the news. "Philip Salter!" he exclaimed, gazing from one to the other, as if unable to believe. "_Philip Salter!_ Why, is he here? Have you news that he is back in England?" "We have news that he _is_ here," said the detective blandly. "We suspect that he is concealed at the Maze. Did you not know it, Mr. Smith?" Mr. Smith sat down in the chair that was behind him as if sitting came easier than standing, in his veritable astonishment. "As Heaven is my judge, it is a mistake," he declared. "Salter is not at the Maze; never has been. We have never heard that he is back in England." "Did you know that he left England?" "Yes. At least, we had good reason to believe that he got away shortly after that dangerous escape of his. It's true it was never confirmed; but the confirmation to his family lies in the fact that we have never since heard of him, or from him." "Never?" "Never. Were he in England we should have been sure to have had some communication from him, had it only been an application for aid--for he could not live upon air; and outlets of earning are here closed to him. One thing you and ourselves may alike rest assured of, Mr. Detective--that, once he got safely away from the country he would not venture into it again." What with one disappointment and another, the detective almost questioned whether it were not as Smith said; and that Salter, so far as Foxwood was concerned, would turn out to be indeed a myth. But then--who was this mysterious man at the Maze? He was passing out with a good day when Mr. Smith resumed. "Have you any objection to tell me what gave rise to your suspicion that Salter was at Foxwood? Or in England at all?" But the officer had tact; plenty of it; or he would not have done for his post; and he turned the question off without any definite answer. For the true originator of the report, he who had caused it to reach the ears of Great Scotland Yard, was Sir Karl Andinnian. Very conscious of the fact was Karl himself. He raised his hat from his brow as he went home, to wipe away the fever-damp gathered there. He remembered to have read somewhere of one of the tortures devised by inquisitionists in the barbarous days gone by. An unhappy prisoner would be shut in a spacious room; and, day by day, watched the walls contracting by some mysterious agency, and closing around him. It seemed to Karl that the walls of the world were closing around him now. Or, rather, round one who had become dearer to him in his dread position than himself--his most ill-fated brother.