ison. Van Heerden had certainly hired the house furnished, probably
from the clergyman or his widow. She began to search the room with
feverish haste. Near the window was a cupboard built out. She opened it
and found that it was a small service lift, apparently communicating
with the kitchen. In a corner of the room was an invalid chair on
wheels.

She sat down at the table and reconstructed the character of its
occupant. She saw an invalid clergyman who had lived permanently in this
part of the house. He was probably wheeled from his bedroom to his
sitting-room, and in this cheerless chamber had spent the last years of
his life. And this place was Deans Folly? She took up the telegraph form
and after a few minutes' deliberation wrote:

"To Beale, Krooman Mansions."

She scratched that out, remembering that he had a telegraphic address
and substituted:

"Belocity, London." She thought a moment, then wrote: "Am imprisoned at
Deans Folly, Upper Reach Village, near Staines. Oliva." That looked too
bold, and she added "Cresswell."

She took a florin from her bag and wrapped it up in the telegraph form.
She had no exact idea as to how she should get the message sent to the
telegraph office, and it was Sunday, when all telegraph offices would be
closed. Nor was there any immediate prospect of her finding a messenger.
She supposed that tradesmen came to the house and that the kitchen door
was somewhere under her window, but tradesmen do not call on Sundays.
She held the little package irresolutely in her hand. She must take her
chance to-day. To-morrow would be Monday and it was certain somebody
would call.

With this assurance she tucked the message into her blouse. She was in
no mood to continue her inspection of the room, and it was only because
in looking again from the window she pulled it from its hook that she
saw the strange-looking instrument which hung between the window and the
service lift. She picked it up, a dusty-looking thing. It consisted of a
short vulcanite handle, from which extended two flat steel supports,
terminating in vulcanite ear-plates. The handle was connected by a green
cord with a plug in the wall.

Oliva recognized it. It was an electrophone. One of those instruments by
which stay-at-home people can listen to an opera, a theatrical
entertainment or--a sermon. Of course it was a church. It was a very
common practice for invalids to be connected up with their favourite
pulpit, and doubtle