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he has escaped us without leaving a solitary hint of his identity."

"That hardly surprises me," said Gordon. "Of course the man has been in a sense your guest, but you could hardly expect him to sit down and write you a Collins."

"One might have expected one crow of triumph."

"Perhaps that was one in the billiard-room."

"In the billiard-room?"

"Yes, somebody had left you a miss in balk."

"Do you really think⁠ . . . "

"Oh, I don't know. Let's go on exploring."

All this time, except for their own whispers, there had been no noise in the secret passage. Through the little window sounds came from a distance, rarefied as sounds are when they come through a small opening. A motor-cycle hooted several times: somebody shouted "Fore!" on the links: far below (as it seemed) somebody was filling a bucket. They crept out again into the passage, the torch switched on again: for some twenty paces they were on the level, then they began to descend, and almost immediately the ceiling grew higher above them⁠—they were in a wall-space instead of a floor-space once more. Just as they reached the foot of the steps, an unforeseen development threw all their plans into confusion⁠—the passage branched in two directions, one branch going straight on, the other turning off sharply to the right.

"What do we do here?" whispered Reeves, flashing the torch up either corridor in turn. "Which-