As they entered, the man closed the door and said sharply: "You're right, gentlemen; there has been foul play." A cold sweat burst out over Guest's brow, and his hair began to cling to his temples. He once more glanced at Stratton, but he did not move a muscle; merely stood listening, as if surprised at the man's assertion. "There have always been two cupboards here, made out of these two old passages, and this one has been lately fastened up." "No, no," said Stratton, in a low, deep tone. "What, sir! Look here," cried the man, and he shook one of the great panels low down in the door, and the other higher. "What do you say to that? Both those have been out quite lately." Stratton bent forward, looking startled, and then stepped close up to the door, to see for himself if the man was correct. The lower panel was certainly loose, and could be shaken about a quarter of an inch each way, but that seemed to be all; and looking relieved he drew back. "Nonsense!" he said. "Absurd!" Guest looked at him sharply, for the voice seemed to be that of a stranger. "Not very absurd, sir," replied the sergeant. "This door was made two or three hundred years ago, I should say, and the old oak is shrunken and worm-eaten. I could easily shove that panel out, but there's no need. Here, Jem, try and open the lock the regular way." Stratton's lips parted, but he said no word; and, as the second man strode up to the door with his tools, the sergeant went on: "I thought it was a mare's nest, sir, and even now I don't like to speak too fast; but it looks to me as if the poor gentleman had been robbed and murdered, and whoever did it has hidden the body in here." A curious cry escaped from Stratton's lips, and he gazed fiercely at the officer. "That's it, sir," said the man. "It's a startler for you, I know, living so close, but I'm afraid it's true. Well, Jem, what do you make of it?" Guest looked as if he had received a mental blow, as idea after idea flashed through his mind. Stratton's manner suggested it--his acts of late, the disappearance of Brettison on the wedding day, the large sum of money on the table, the mad horror and despair of the man ever since--it must be so; and he felt that here was the real key to all his friend's strange behaviour. He wiped the cold moisture from his brow, and stared at Stratton, but his friend was standing rigid and determined, watching the actions of the two men, and Guest had hard work to suppress a groan, as he felt that his companion would owe to him the discovery and the punishment that would follow. Just then Stratton turned and saw that he was being watched; but, as if all attempts at concealment were hopeless, he smiled faintly at his friend and then turned away. The workman had not made any reply, and the sergeant spoke again as a large picklock was thrust into the keyhole again and again. "Rusted up?"