ch, for the bulb in the ceiling gave forth no light,
and was stooping down to sweep away some of the sawdust on the floor.

"Come along, Dick," cried the superintendent. "What have you got
there?"

"Look, sir," said the man, holding out a handful of the sawdust he had
scraped up. "There's a bottle yonder that's had port wine in it, but
this looks to me like blood."

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

TOM TIDDLER'S GROUND.

"Blood of the grape!" cried the superintendent, contemptuously. "Where
were you brought up? Never in a gentleman's wine cellar before? You
should go down to the docks and see the floors there. By Jingo! but it
is blood!"

More of the sawdust was scraped aside, and the truth was plain enough; a
broad patch had lain there, and the granulated wood had been thrown over
to soak it up.

But the constable was not satisfied yet; he kept peering about, made his
way to the iron door, and then dropped upon his knees.

"Here you are, sir," he cried. "They've put the body in here, it seems
to me, for there's a tiny smutch just against the edge. There's been
murder done."

"You're right, Joe," cried the superintendent, sharply; "but where are
the men? You stay here, I'll have the place searched again."

Every nook and corner of the basement was examined without result, and
then the rest of the house was carefully gone over once more, but the
place proved to be empty, and the superintendent returned to where his
sentry was on duty.

"Made anything out, sir?"

"No."

"What about the roof? Must be a trap, and they've got through there."

"There is a trap, my lad, but the cobwebs over it show that it can't
have been opened to-day."

"What about the cellar, sir?"

"I have searched all but the wine cellars, and we can't break in there.
I've sent orders to find out who lives here and telegraph to the family
to come up."

"But you won't wait, sir, before getting this iron door open?"

"No, I sha'n't wait for that."

"That's right, sir. They've killed the poor lady I saw, I'm afraid, and
she's lying in there. That must be a bit of her dress."

There was no further hesitation. Suitable workmen were obtained, and
after many hours' toil the great iron door was drilled and prised off,
the police stepping forward at once to raise the body they expected to
find, and then standing dumbfounded at seeing that there were a couple
of shelves upon one side. The rest of the iron closet was perfectly
emp