yed in his usual faultless manner. He did not attempt
to rise, however, as the pair entered, but merely nodded to Gianapolis
and smiled mirthlessly at Soames.

They quitted the room by the door opening on the stone steps--the
door by which Soames had first entered into that evil Aladdin's cave.
Gianapolis went ahead, and Soames, following him, presently emerged
through a low doorway into a concrete-paved apartment, having walls of
Portland stone and a white-washed ceiling. One end consisted solely of a
folding gate, evidently designed to admit the limousine.

Gianapolis turned, as Soames stepped up beside him.

"If you will glance back," he said, "you will see exactly where the door
is situated."

Soames did as directed, and suppressed a cry of surprise. Four of the
stone blocks were fictitious--were, in verity, a heavy wooden door,
faced in some way with real, or imitation granite--a door communicating
with the steps of the catacombs.

"Observe!" said Gianapolis.

He closed the door, which opened outward, and there remained nothing
to show the keenest observer--unless he had resorted to sounding--that
these four blocks differed in any way from their fellows.

"Ingenious, is it not?" said Gianapolis, genially. "And now, my dear
Soames, observe again!"

He rolled back the folding gates; and beyond was a garage, wherein stood
the big limousine.

"I keep my car here, Soames, for the sake of--convenience! And now, my
dear Soames, when you go out this evening, Said will close this entrance
after you. When you return, which, I understand, you must do at ten
o'clock, you will enter the garage by the side door yonder, which will
not be locked, and you will press the electric button at the back of
the petrol cans here--look! you can see it!--the inner door will then be
opened for you. Step this way."

He passed between the car and the wall of the garage, opened the door at
the left of the entrance gates, and, Soames following, came out into a
narrow lane. For the first time in many days Soames scented the cleaner
air of the upper world, and with it he filled his lungs gratefully.

Behind him was the garage, before him the high wall of a yard, and, on
his right, for a considerable distance, extended a similar wall; in the
latter case evidently that of a wharf--for beyond it flowed the Thames.

Proceeding along beside this wall, the two came to the gates of a
warehouse. They passed these, however, and entered a small