At that moment there was a sharp double knock at the outer door, and, active now as a cat, Stratton sprang into the room, listening to faintly heard, descending steps. Then, opening the inner door, he saw that there was a letter in the box, and satisfied of the cause of the interruption, he closed and bolted the inner door again, and once more crossed to the closet and entered. Then, from out of the darkness, came sound after sound as if someone was busy at work. Now it was the creaking of a hinge; then a faint rap, as of a lid escaping too soon from a person's hand, and after that, for quite an hour, the rasping and cracking of wood, till Stratton came out bathed with perspiration, and looking more ghastly than ever. This time he stood wiping the great drops from his dripping brow before taking a flask from a shelf, unscrewing the top, and drinking deeply. He listened again, and once more drawing a deep breath he hurried back into the darkness of the closet, where the creaking noise was repeated, and followed twice by a deep, booming sound, after which there was a long-continued muffled gurgling, as of water flowing, and a peculiar odour filled the room. This was repeated; and at last Stratton reeled out of the place panting, staggered to the window, which he opened a little way by passing his hands under the blind, and held his face there to breathe the fresh air before hurrying-back to his writing table. Here he struck a match, lit a taper, and, taking it up, moved toward the closet door like one in a dream, but stopped short, blew out the light, and plunged into the darkness once again. CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. GUEST SPEAKS OUT. "Why not a run to Saint Malo and a couple of months' yachting?" Sir Mark proposed as a cure foreign travel, but Myra refused to go. Edie tried vainly to inveigle her into some distraction, and Guest spent a little fortune in concert and opera tickets in trying to persuade her to accompany them, but they were generally wasted. Miss Jerrold tried hard, too, and was more successful, coaxing her niece to come and stay at her house, or to spend quiet afternoons with her, no one else being admitted. And all the time it was understood that the unfortunate engagement was a subject tabooed; but one day, when Myra was with her alone, Guest having been there by accident when the cousins came--that is to say, by one of his accidents, and at a suggestion from Miss Jerrold that a walk would do Edie good, as her face looked "very pasty," having taken Edie for the said walk--Miss Jerrold seeing the wistful eyes, sunken cheeks, and utter prostration of her niece's face, bethought her of a plan to try and revive interest in things mundane, at a time when the girl seemed to be slowly dropping out of life. "We've petted and cosseted her too much," said Aunt Jerrold to herself. "I'll try that." She tried _that_, and attacked her niece in a very blunt, rough way, keenly watching the effect of her words the while.