ndows are securely fastened. He could not, therefore,
have gone in there. That on the left is a boarding-house. I have called
upon the landlady, who asserts most positively that her front door was
not opened to any one after ten o'clock last night. She informs me,
however, that a light was burning in your studio all night, and I see
for myself that you have not been to bed. May I ask, therefore, if you
saw anything of such a man, or whether you can furnish me with such
particulars as will be likely to help us in our search for him."

Like lightning, while he was talking, the memory of everything connected
with the visit Pharos had paid me flashed across my mind. I glanced
involuntarily toward that part of the room where the mummy had hitherto
stood. To my amazement--I might almost say to my consternation--it was
no longer there. What had become of it? Could Pharos, after disposing of
me as he had done, have stolen it and transported it away? It seemed
impossible, and yet I had the best of evidence before me that it was no
longer there. And then another question: had Pharos had any connection
with the murder? The time at which it was supposed to have been
committed, between midnight and one o'clock, was precisely that at which
he had made his appearance before me. And yet what reason had I, but my
own terrible suspicions, to lead me to the conclusion that he was the
author of this fiendish bit of work? I saw, however, that my continued
silence was impressing the inspector unfavourably.

"Come, sir," he said, this time a little more sharply than before, "I
must remind you that my time is valuable. Am I to understand that you
are in a position to help me, or not?"

God knows, if I had been my own master I should have instantly loosed my
tongue and revealed all I knew. I should have told him under what
terrible circumstances I had met Pharos on the Embankment that wet night
toward the end of March, and have commented on his inhuman conduct on
that occasion. I should have informed him of the appearance the other
had made in my studio early this morning, not only with a frightened
look in his eyes, but breathing heavily, as though he had been running,
a thing which would have seemed impossible in a man of his years. Then I
should have gone on to tell how he had attempted to induce me to part
with something upon which I placed considerable value, and, being
disappointed, had hypnotised me and made off with the article in
que