“He wasn’t losing any time,” I ventured.

“He knew he hadn’t any to lose.  When you put those wooden shutters up, you warned him that you suspected his game.  He knew, if the alarm was on, it would ring when he cut the wire, but he also knew that the chances were a hundred to one against the cut being discovered, or the alarm put in working order, before to-morrow.”

“Why can’t we ambush him?” I suggested.

“We might try, but it will be a mighty risky undertaking, Lester.”

“One risky undertaking is enough for to-night,” I said, with a sigh, for my belief in the existence of the secret drawer and the poison and all the rest of it had come back with a rush.  I felt almost apologetic toward Godfrey for ever doubting him.  “We’d better wait and see if we survive the first one before we arrange for any more.”

“All right,” Godfrey laughed.  “But I’ll fix this break.”

He got out his pen-knife, loosened two or three of the staples which held the wire in place, drew it out, scraped back the insulation, and twisted the ends tightly together.

“There,” he added, “that’s done.  If the invader tampers with the window again, he will set off the alarm.  But I don’t believe he’ll touch it.  I fancy he already knows his little game is discovered.”

“How would he know it?” I demanded, incredulously.

“If he is keeping an eye on this window, as he naturally would do, he has seen my light.  Perhaps he is watching us now.”

I glanced at the dark square of the window with a little shiver.  This business was getting on my nerves again.  But Godfrey turned away with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Now for the cabinet,” he said, and led the way back upstairs.

Rogers was still sitting dejectedly on the cot, and, looking at him more closely, I could see that he was white and shaken.  His trouble, whatever its nature, plainly lay heavy on his mind.

“Have you anything to tell us, this evening, Rogers?” I asked, kindly, but he only shook his head.

“I’ve told you everything I know, sir,” he answered, in a low voice.

“I’m not going to worry you, Rogers,” I went on, “but I want you to think it over.  You can rely upon me to help you, if I can.”

He looked up quickly, but caught himself, and turned his eyes away.

“Thank you, sir,” was all he said.

“And now,” I added, briskly, “I’ll have to ask you to get up.  Move the cot away from the door, Parks.”

Parks obeyed me with astonished face.

“You’re not going in there, sir!” he protested, as I turned the knob.

“Yes, we are,” I said, and opened the door.  “Is—­is....”

“No, sir,” broke in Parks, understanding.  “The undertakers brought the coffin and put him in it and moved him over to the drawing-room this afternoon, sir.”

“I’m glad of that.  I want all the lights lit, Parks, just as they were last night.”