cratch?"

"No, sir, I did not."

"I am sure you did not, for a duster would have swept away these shreds
of varnish. Who has the key of this bureau?"

"The Professor keeps it on his watch-chain."

"Is it a simple key?"

"No, sir; it is a Chubb's key."

"Very good. Mrs. Marker, you can go. Now we are making a little
progress. Our lady enters the room, advances to the bureau, and either
opens it or tries to do so. While she is thus engaged young Willoughby
Smith enters the room. In her hurry to withdraw the key she makes this
scratch upon the door. He seizes her, and she, snatching up the nearest
object, which happens to be this knife, strikes at him in order to make
him let go his hold. The blow is a fatal one. He falls and she escapes,
either with or without the object for which she has come. Is Susan the
maid there? Could anyone have got away through that door after the time
that you heard the cry, Susan?"

"No sir; it is impossible. Before I got down the stair I'd have seen
anyone in the passage. Besides, the door never opened, for I would have
heard it."

"That settles this exit. Then no doubt the lady went out the way she
came. I understand that this other passage leads only to the Professor's
room. There is no exit that way?"

"No, sir."

"We shall go down it and make the acquaintance of the Professor. Halloa,
Hopkins! this is very important, very important indeed. The Professor's
corridor is also lined with cocoanut matting."

"Well, sir, what of that?"

"Don't you see any bearing upon the case? Well, well, I don't insist
upon it. No doubt I am wrong. And yet it seems to me to be suggestive.
Come with me and introduce me."

We passed down the passage, which was of the same length as that which
led to the garden. At the end was a short flight of steps ending in
a door. Our guide knocked, and then ushered us into the Professor's
bedroom.

It was a very large chamber, lined with innumerable volumes, which had
overflowed from the shelves and lay in piles in the corners, or were
stacked all round at the base of the cases. The bed was in the centre
of the room, and in it, propped up with pillows, was the owner of the
house. I have seldom seen a more remarkable-looking person. It was a
gaunt, aquiline face which was turned towards us, with piercing dark
eyes, which lurked in deep hollows under overhung and tufted brows. His
hair and beard were white, save that the latter was curiously stained
with yel