had been rearranged in the room,when the local officer said--
"At the end of the corridor there's another sitting-room."
"Very well," Boyd answered. "Let's see what it's like," and we allthree, lights in hand, followed our guide until we entered a smallersitting-room.
An easel stood in it and it was apparently used by Eva as a studio, forshe, I knew, took lessons in painting. Upon the easel stood a canvashalf finished, while near the window was a small writing-table, the onelong drawer of which was locked. The lock was a common one and quicklyyielded to Boyd's skeleton keys, but within we only found anothercollection of old letters, a quantity of pencil sketches, colours andother odds and ends connected with her art studies. Boyd was turningthem over methodically, when suddenly an involuntary exclamation escapedhim.
"Ah! What's this?" he ejaculated, at the same time drawing forth a cardabout the size of a lady's visiting card, and held it out to me.
Upon it was drawn in ink a circle. It was executed in exactly the samemanner as that we had found concealed beneath the plates in thedining-room at Phillimore Place.
Again he turned the things over and drew out three or four other cardsof similar size and style, each bearing a device, one having upon itsface the straight line exactly like that we had found in Kensington.
"You recognise these devices?" he inquired.
"Of course," I responded in an awed voice, utterly bewildered. "What, Iwonder, can they denote?"
He shrugged his shoulders, examined each card carefully beneath the raysof his lamp, felt it, and after carefully examining all theheterogeneous collection of things in the drawer, placed them backagain, closed it, and relocked it.
"Those cards bear some very important part in the tragedy, I feelassured," he said when he had finished, and turned to me with a puzzledexpression. "They look innocent enough, and the devices are in no wayforbidding; nevertheless, it is strange that we find here, in herpossession, exact duplicates not only of the cards, but also of thatcoin carried by the dead man."
"It's all utterly astounding," I declared. Then, with a touch ofpoignant regret and despair, I added: "All these discoveries would causeme the highest gratification if I did not love her as fondly as I do."
"You surely could not make a murderess your wife, Urwin?" my friendsaid. "In this matter remember that we are striving to fathom a mysterywhich is one of the most profound and remarkable that has ever beenreported at the Yard."
"I know," I answered, glancing around that small room wherein mywell-beloved had spent her days in the study of art. "But what I cannotunderstand is how, being an actual victim of the tragedy, she isnevertheless at the same time implicated in the affair."
"That will be made plain later," he said with an air of confidence.
"One thing is quite clear, that she purchased certain poisons which areonly known to those well versed in toxicology. We have that on oldLowry's own authority. If, then, she bought this drug it could only befor one purpose, namely, to commit murder. Well, she made an attemptupon you; therefore, why should you endeavour to shield her?"
"Because I love her," I answered, still unconvinced by his argument.
"Bah! Love is entirely out of the question in this matter, my dearfellow," he said, with a gesture of impatience. "She may havefascinated you because of her unusual beauty, but beyond that--well, insix months' time you'll thank Providence that you've not married her--mark my words."
That was exactly what she herself had said, I reflected. She hadprophesied that one day, ere long, I would hate the very mention of hername.
From room to room we passed, examining everything, allowing nothing toescape us. There was assuredly no sign of poverty in that house, butreally the reverse, a lavish display of costly objects, which showedthat its owner was capricious, with money at her command. No expenseseemed to have been spared to render that abode the acme of comfort andmodern convenience.
In one of the bedrooms in that same corridor, a room which we decidedwas Eva's from various dresses and other things it contained, we foundstanding upon the table a large panel photograph of a kind-faced,middle-aged woman, which the local officer at once recognised as that ofLady Glaslyn.
Boyd, taking it up, examined it long and earnestly beneath the light ofthe bull's-eye.
"Devilish good-looking for a woman of her age," he remarkedthoughtfully, as he slowly replaced it upon the table. "Do you know?"he added, turning to me, "I fancy I've met her somewhere--but where Ican't for the life of me recollect. What do you know about the family?"
"Very little beyond what's in Burke, which only devotes three lines tothem. The baronetcy was conferred in 1839, and Lady Glaslyn's husband,Sir Thomas, died six years ago. No mention is made of their countryseat, so I presume they haven't one."
Boyd stroked his beard and gave vent to a low grunt of doubt.
"Well," he said, "I'm almost positive that I've met her beforesomewhere. I wonder where it was."
Quickly we rearranged the articles in the room which we had disturbedand passed on to the next, the door of which faced us, forming the endof the long corridor.
"Hulloa!" Boyd cried. "What does this mean?"
We both looked, and by the light of the lantern saw that the door was adouble one and that right across it was a long bar of steel or ironpainted and grained the colour of the wood so as not to be noticeable,and securing it strongly.
"This is decidedly funny," the detective continued, bending down toexamine something. "Look! it's sealed!"
I bent eagerly beside him, and there saw that the great sliding bolt ranin three large hasps, and that one of the knobs of the bolt was securedby wire to the hasp, the two ends of the wire being secured together bya round seal of molten lead about the size of a shilling. By this thebolt was rendered immovable.
"Extraordinary!" I gasped, as we all stood wondering what might betherein concealed. "If we cut the wire then our presence here will bebetrayed," I said.
But Boyd, who was still examining the seal with great care, exclaimed atlast, pointing to it--
"Do you see two letters on the seal, `R.' and `M.'?"
"Yes," I answered. "What do you think they denote?"
"They tell us how this seal was impressed," the detective responded."These initials stand for Rete Mediterranea, and the machine with whichthe seal has been impressed is one of those used at every Italianrailway station to seal merchandise and passengers' baggage. It hascertainly been placed upon the wire by one who knew how to handle theinstrument with dexterity."
"There must be something in that room which her ladyship desires to keepsecret," I remarked, both amazed and excited at this latest discovery.
"Yes," remarked Boyd. "At all hazards we must explore it."
"But how," I queried, "without tampering with the seal?"
His brow clouded for a few moments, then again he examined the seal andwire with the utmost care. He stood motionless, looking at it for fullya minute, then turning to the local officer, said--
"I'm going downstairs a moment. Don't touch it till I return."
We both sat upon an ottoman in the corridor for nearly a quarter of anhour, during which time we heard noises downstairs; until Boyd at lastrejoined us with a look of satisfaction in his face, and bearing in hishands something which looked like a huge pair of rusty shears withwooden handles.
"I thought I'd find it," he observed, wiping the perspiration from hisbrow. His hands and face were blackened as though he had been gropingin a cellar. "This is the seal," and opening his other hand hedisplayed an old discoloured pewter teaspoon, adding, "And here's a bitof lead--or what's as good."
I took the sealing machine from him and examined it carefully. It wasred with dust, and had apparently been thrown aside and neglected for along time.
"Now," said Boyd to his assistant, "I've lit a fire downstairs in thekitchen, and by the time we've done it'll be sufficiently fierce to meltthe lead."
"Then you intend to break op
en the door?" I exclaimed.
He smiled, and for answer took from his pocket a champagne-knife,cutting the wire with a sharp click, untwisting it from the knob, andplacing it with its seal in his pocket.
In breathless eagerness we watched him push back the bolt, and stoodexpectant; but when he tried the door he found it to be still locked.Again he went swiftly to work with his bunch of queer-looking keys, andat last he saw one of them gently turn, and he pushed wide open the doorof the chamber of secrets.
Next second the bright light of Boyd's bull's-eye flashed into