"Well, sir, it's very funny that he hasn't written to me. He's never been silent so long before." "How long have you been with him?" "Oh, about three years now, sir." Then together we descended the broad oak staircase, and I went forth into the beautiful gardens chatting with the old white-bearded head-gardener, and going through the grape and peach houses, all of which were most perfectly kept. How strange, I reflected; what would this large staff of superior servants think if they knew the truth--that their master, a man of mystery, was a fugitive from justice--that he and Asta had crept down the back stairs of an hotel and disappeared into the night while the police had entered from the front. As I drove back in the evening through those autumn-tinted lanes, with smiling meadows everywhere, I calmly reviewed the situation. After all, there was really no actually mysterious fact in Harvey Shaw having in his bedroom a cupboard so securely locked. He, upon his own admission, led a double life, therefore it was only to be supposed that he possessed a good many papers, even articles of clothing, perhaps, which he was compelled to hide from the prying eyes of his servants. I recalled the whole of Guy's letter, and found that the chief point was the fact that he had solved the weird mystery of that strange hand--that shadowy Something which I myself had witnessed, and against which I had been warned by Arnold. What was it? But I put aside the puzzle. My chief thought was of Asta. Where could she be? Why had she not sent me word in secret of her hiding-place? She had, by tacit agreement, accepted me as her friend, hence I was disappointed at receiving no word from her. That night, after reading my London paper over a cigar, as was my habit, I left the library about eleven o'clock and retired to my room. I must have been sound asleep when, of a sudden, the electrical alarm which my father years ago had had placed upon the door of the big safe in the library for greater security went off with a tremendous clatter, and I jumped up, startled. Taking my revolver from a drawer in the dressing-table, I rang the bell in the servants' quarters and switched on my electric hand-lamp. But already the household was alarmed, and the dogs were barking furiously at the intruders, whoever they were. Accompanied by my man Adams, I descended the front stairs and, revolver in hand, entered the library, the window of which stood open, while below the safe door there lay upon the carpet a cheap bull's-eye lantern with two cylinders containing gas and some other paraphernalia, showing that the thieves were men of scientific method, for their intention had, I saw, been to use the oxy-hydrogen blow-pipe. The heads of some of the rivets had been removed and a small hole drilled through the chilled steel three-quarters of an inch thick.