However, the whole affair was so mysterious that until he saw Lucy there was little chance of a reasonable explanation. He therefore possessed his soul in patience until he arrived in Waller Street. Here he sprang out, and telling the cabman to wait, ran up the steps of a semi-detached house of the suburban villa residence style. The night was brilliant with moonlight, so he easily saw the number on the glass over the door, and also the long, dull street of similar houses. It was some minutes before the appointed time, but that mattered very little. There seemed to be no light in the house, and Vernon wondered more than ever why Lucy should be in so unusual a locality. Shortly the sound of light footsteps was heard, and a light appeared, against which the numerals on the glass above the door stood out black and distinct. Then the door itself was opened cautiously, and the white face of a woman looked out. "Is Miss Corsoon here?" asked Vernon abruptly. "Are you Mr. Vernon?" questioned the woman in a frightened whisper. "Yes. I received a wire from----" "Come in, come in," breathed the woman, and held the door open sufficiently for Vernon to slip in. "I am so glad you've come," she went on, still below her breath, and apparently much afraid. "It's as much as my life's worth to admit you. But the poor young lady----" "Is she here?" "Yes. They've got her in the cellar below. Only because she cried so much did I dare to send that telegram to you, and----" "What the devil does it all mean?" demanded Vernon fiercely and gruffly. "Hush, hush! Don't raise your voice. Follow me on tip-toe. They will hear." "Who are they?" asked Vernon softly, and obeying. But all the woman said was "Hush, hush!" So, wondering at this strange adventure, which seemed genuine enough, the young man went after the woman down some wooden stairs which led from the hall to the basement. As he followed he saw by the light of the candle which his guide carried that the hall was dusty and unfurnished. She led him along a dark passage and opened an end door with an air of mystery. "The young lady there," she said softly, and handing him the light. "Take the candle, and for heaven's sake don't say that I betrayed them." "Them? Who?" asked Vernon imperatively. She clutched his arm. "They'll hear you," she whispered, pointing upward, and pushed him towards the open door. "She's drugged--in there." Vernon uttered a loud ejaculation, which made his guide shiver, and stepped into the dark room, holding the candle above his head. The next moment the door closed quickly behind him. He turned sharply, but already the key had clicked crisply in the lock. He was a prisoner. "And it's a plant; a plant," cried Vernon in a cold fury. "I'm trapped."