And once again the tall, thin, wiry man disappeared below. Jack Sainsbury did not see how the man, when he had disappeared into the basement, stood in the kitchen his face blanched to the lips and his thin hands trembling.

It was only at the moment when Thomasson was alone that his marvellous self-possession forsook him. On the floor above he remained cool, collected, anxious, and perfectly unruffled. Below, and alone, the cook and housemaid not having returned, they being out for a late evening at the theatre, a craven fear possessed him.

It would have been quite evident to the casual observer that the man, Thomasson, possessed some secret fear of what had occurred in the brief interval between Mr Trustram's departure and Sainsbury's arrival. Tall and pale-faced, he stood in the big basement kitchen, with its rows of shining plated covers and plate-racks, motionless and statuesque: his head upon his breast, his teeth set, his cheeks as white as paper.

But only for a moment. A second later he drew a deep breath, nerved himself with a superhuman effort...

And then, opening a cupboard, took out a steel tool with an axe-head at one end and a curved and pronged point at the other--very much like a burglar's jemmy. Such a tool was constructed for strong leverage, and, quite cool as before, he carried it up the two flights of stairs to where Jack stood before the locked door, eager and impatient.

Sainsbury, being the younger of the pair, took it, and inserting the flat chisel-like end into the slight crevice between the stout polished door and the lintel, worked it in with leverage, endeavoring to break the lock from its fastening.

This proved unsuccessful, for, after two or three attempts, the woodwork of the lintel suddenly splintered and gave way, leaving the door locked securely as before. Time after time he tried, but with no other result than breaking away the lintel of the door.

What mystery might not be contained in that locked room? His hands trembled with excitement and nervousness. Once he had thought of summoning the police by telephone, but such an action might, he thought, for certain reasons which he knew, annoy his friend the doctor, therefore he hesitated.

Probably Jerrold had fainted, and as soon as they could get at him he would recover and be quite right again. He knew how strenuously he had worked of late at Guy's, in those wards filled with wounded soldiers. 

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