doubt remained in
my breast that William was one of those monsters who feed their morbid
cravings by experiments upon the weak and defenceless, it had been
dispelled by what I had just seen in this book.

However, I did not leave the room immediately. As it was of the greatest
importance that I should be able to locate in which of the many
apartments on the floor above, the supposed prisoner was lodged, I cast
about me for the means of doing this through the location of the room in
which I then was. As this could only be done by affixing some token to
the window, which could be recognized from without, I thought, first, of
thrusting the end of my handkerchief through one of the slats of the
outside blinds; secondly, of simply leaving one of these blinds ajar;
and finally, of chipping off a piece with the penknife I always carry
with innumerable other small things in the bag I invariably wear at my
side. (Fashion, I hold, counts for nothing against convenience.)

This last seemed by much the best device. A handkerchief could be
discovered and pulled out, an open blind could be shut, but a sliver
once separated from the wood of the casement, nothing could replace it
or even cover it up without itself attracting attention.

Taking out my knife, I glanced at the door leading into the hall, found
it still shut and everything quiet behind it. Then I took a look into
the shrubs and bushes of the yard outside, and, observing nothing to
disturb me, snipped off a bit from one of the outer edges of the slats
and then carefully reclosed the blinds and the window.

I was crossing the threshold when I heard a rapid footstep in the hall.
Miss Knollys was hastening down the hall to my side.

"Oh, Miss Butterworth," she exclaimed, with one quick look into the room
I was leaving, "this is William's den, the one spot he never allows any
of us to enter. I don't know how the key came to be upon the string. It
never was before, and I am afraid he never will forgive me."

"He need never know that I have been the victim of such a mistake," said
I. "My feet leave no trail, and as I use no perfumes he will never
suspect that I have enjoyed a glimpse of these old-fashioned walls and
ancient cabinets."

"The slats of the blinds are a little open," she remarked, her eyes
searching my face for some sign that I am sure she did not find there.
"Were they so when you came in?"

"I hardly think so; it was very dark. Shall I put them as I found