matted by congealed blood. One thought alonepossessed me. I knew that my life depended on my escape. Again I triedto recollect minutely every incident of the previous night, but it allseemed like some terrible nightmare. In fact, in my nervous anxiety tofree myself, I was unable to realise that Dora had actually beenpresent, and tried to convince myself that it had been merely somestrange chimera produced by my unbalanced imagination.
Yet so vividly did it all recur to me that there seemed no room fordoubt. The one fear uppermost in my mind was that Dora herself had metwith foul play. I remembered the firm look of desperation upon herface, and I tried to imagine what scene of horror she had witnessed inthat brilliantly-lit inner room that should cause that look of horrorupon her countenance. Evidently she had entered this weird, neglectedhouse with a firm resolve, but what her purpose had been I failed toimagine.
Had I been placed in that cellar by my assailant, who, finding meunconscious, had been under the apprehension that he had committedmurder? This seemed at least a reasonable surmise. Yet it was utterlyinexplicable.
But the necessity for freedom impressed itself upon me. The nauseatingodour that filled the place choked me; I gasped for fresh air. Thesmall opening in the further wall, near the roof, did not admit any air,as there was a piece of thick, dirt-begrimed glass before it so high upthat I could not reach to break it. The door was the only means ofexit, but when I again endeavoured to open it I found all effortsunavailing. True, the great thickly-rusted lock with its formidablesocket was on the inside, but it was of such dimensions that to break itwas utterly impossible.
I knew that I had been conveyed to that place by some unknown enemy, whohad either believed me dead, or who intended that I should remain thereto starve; therefore, to escape without delay before darkness fell wasabsolutely imperative. By the meagre light afforded by the single rayof sunshine I made a careful examination of the lock, but was compelledto admit that in order to break it I should require a heavy hammer or achisel. Both lock and hinges had evidently been freshly oiled, probablyin order that the door could be opened and shut without creaking.
For a considerable time I was engaged in searching among the lumber forsome instrument with which to effect my escape, but could discover none.There were a large number of empty wine cases, old books, brokenfurniture, discarded wearing apparel, a table with one leg missing, anda variety of miscellaneous domestic articles; but none of these could Iutilise for the purpose of breaking out of my prison. At last, hiddenaway beneath a pile of old boxes, I discerned a large blackold-fashioned travelling trunk, with long iron hinges. Pulling awaysome of the rubbish piled about it, I felt the iron clamps, and itoccurred to me if I could only detach one of them they were heavy enoughto use as a hammer to break off the socket of the lock. Unlike theother boxes, which were dry, the wood of this trunk was damp, mildewedand rotting. Along the side was a great crack, into which I could haveplaced my hand, and the side had bulged as if the trunk had been burstopen by some terrific force. With care I felt one of the ironfastenings, and before long came to the conclusion that to remove itwould be an easy task. Therefore, without delay, I threw down the boxespiled above it; but in doing so, the big heavy trunk also lurched over,and before I could steady it, fell with a crash upon the flags.
The fall loosened the iron clamp, and kneeling upon the box, exertingall my efforts, I succeeded at last in tearing it bodily from the wetdecaying wood.
As I did so, however, my weight upon the trunk caused part of thedamaged side to fall out, and thus the lid, that had once been securelylocked, became unloosened. Out of sheer curiosity to see what itcontained, I pulled it aside and gazed in.
"My God!" I cried next second, thrilled with horror.
I had recklessly thrust my hand into the trunk, thinking it to containsome old wearing apparel, and my fingers had, with startling suddenness,come into contact with a cold, lifeless human hand.
The sun had been obscured, and there was not sufficient light to enableme to discern distinctly the lifeless form therein concealed. I could,however, see that it was a body, the clenched hand of which, stretchedabove, pointed to the suggestion that the person had been doubled up andplaced there before the spark of vitality had been extinguished. Thefingers showed in what terrible paroxysm of agony the victim's lastbreath had been drawn.
This discovery appalled me. I stood with the long iron hinge still inmy hand, gazing awe-stricken at the box in which the body was concealed.I now realised how, by decomposition of the contents, the wood hadrotted; how, by the accumulation of gases, it had been rent asunder, andthat the sickening stifling odour that nauseated me emanated from thishidden evidence of a crime.
Around this cellar that had been converted into a charnel-house I gazedhalf fearfully, my eyes penetrating its darkest recesses, dreading tomeet some spectral form or to face the unknown person who had made sucha violent attempt upon my life on the previous night. Once again Isummoned courage to peer into the decaying trunk, but could distinguishlittle in that tantalising darkness. Repugnance prevented me fromturning over the box, and emptying its gruesome contents on the flags;therefore, I replaced the lid and waited a few moments to recovermyself. The appalling discovery had filled me with an indescribablefear, and weakened as I had been by the injuries to my head, my sensesreeled.
At last, summoning a firm resolution to arm myself against this terrorand misfortune, I doubled the hinges back together so as to strengthenthem, and walking to the door, made a carefully directed but franticattack upon the socket holding the lock. Although old and very rusty,it seemed that no effort of mine was strong enough to break it, for itwithstood all attack, and the damage I did consisted in merely knockingoff a little of the incrustation. Again and again I rained blows uponit with my improvised hammer, but the iron itself was strong, and fourlarge screws that secured it to the woodwork remained unloosened.
Presently my weakness compelled me to pause to regain breath, as withfailing heart I was forced to acknowledge myself utterly baffled. AgainI examined it long and earnestly. After another quarter of an hour'seffort, however, the thought momentarily flashed through my mind that bythe exercise of patience I could utilise one end of the hinge which wasnarrow and thin, as a screw-driver, and by its aid remove the screws.
This had not before occurred to me, but in a few moments I was kneelingat the lintel, and, using the hinge deftly, had half removed the firstscrew. Within ten minutes I succeeded in extracting them all, and,taking off the socket, emerged into the passage, afterwards closing theentrance to the gruesome place.
Passing down the stone passage in the basement, which I rememberedhaving explored on the previous night, I ascended at last into thespacious gloomy hall and walked towards the street door. As I did so anunusual noise startled me. I halted, listening with breathless anxiety.
It came from above. Through the deserted mansion it once againresounded, clearly distinct and dismal. It was a wild, shrill cry--awoman's despairing shriek!
My first impulse was to rush upstairs and resume my investigations, but,a sudden fear seizing me, I opened the door and fled precipitately fromthe weird house of hidden mysteries.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
A CONFESSION.
Hatless, hungry and half fainting, I drove in a cab to my old friend DrLandsell in Kensington, who examined my wound, pronounced that it wasnot dangerous, bathed and dressed it. I accepted his invitation tolunch, but, although he expressed surprise how I could have receivedsuch a blow, I did not deem it wise to satisfy his curiosity. We partedabout three o'clock, for I had resolved to see Grindlay, and was anxiousto tell him of my discovery and seek his aid.
I was compelled, however, to call at my chambers to obtain a hat andexchange my torn coat for another, and as I alighted in ShaftesburyAvenue I recollected that before consulting the detective I ought firstto ascertain whether Dora had returned home. The mysterious shriek ofdespair I had heard might have been hers! She might still be imprisonedin the h
ouse!
Ascending the stairs, I entered my chambers with my latch-key, andstrode straight towards my sitting-room. To my amazement two personswere awaiting me. Upon the threshold I stood gazing inquiringly atthem.
Ensconced in my arm-chair sat Lady Fyneshade, while on the opposite sideof the room, his bony hands clasped behind his back, stood her companionMarkwick.
As I entered Mabel gave vent to a cry that betrayed alarm, and rosequickly to her feet, while her companion stood staring at meopen-mouthed, with an expression of mingled fear and astonishment. Bothglared at me as if I were an apparition.
But only for a single instant. Markwick's face relaxed into a forcedsmile, while Mabel, laughing outright, stretched forth her hand frankly,exclaiming:
"Here you are at last, Stuart! How are you?"
I greeted her rather coldly, but she chattered on, telling me thatSaunders had asked them in, saying that he expected me to return everymoment. They had, it seems, already waited half an hour, and were