was hopeless,—­particularly with Billie outside, loaded revolver in hand, nerved to the shooting point.  I climbed again to the window, but the casing was solidly spiked into position, and I could barely press my head through the aperture into the open air.  It was a thirty-foot sheer drop to the hard gravel of the road beneath, the nearest tree limb a dozen feet distant, with the roof edge far beyond reach of the hand.  I sat down in the chair, the blue smoke curling overhead, floating out the window, my eyes studying the red-tinted side walls, as I endeavored to recall each detail of the house’s architecture, and the exact location of this particular room.

I had turned to the left at the head of the stairway, passing by at least three doors.  Then there had occurred a slight jog in the hall, making room for a large chimney, while just beyond opened this door.  It was not even visible from the front of the house, and would probably be the rearmost apartment—­no, that was wrong; the hallway, much contracted in width, continued on into the ell.  This was quite likely the first of the servants’ quarters, and that east wall must abut directly against the chimney.  With a new degree of hopefulness, I pushed aside the bed, and began testing the wall space with my knuckles.  If any chimney was there, the stones were protected by wooden casing, which, covered by the red paper, was effectively concealed.  I was about to abandon the search when a finger penetrated the paper, revealing a round opening—­a pipe hole, left uncovered except for the wallpaper.  I wrenched out the tin protector, and felt within.  The chimney had apparently never been used, the interior being clear of soot, and was built of a single layer of stone, Southern fashion, the irregular fragments mortared together, and plastered smoothly on the inside.  Without was a thin, narrow planking, dove-tailed, but secured by nails only at the four corners.  This could be easily pried away, leaving the chimney itself open to attack.  I could not reach far enough within to touch the opposite wall, but was convinced the space would prove sufficiently large to admit my body.  With a knife I tested the resistance of the mortar, breaking the point of the blade, yet detaching quite a chunk, and wrenching out one small stone.  Beyond doubt the task might be accomplished—­but what was below?  How was I to get down those smoothly plastered walls—­and back again, if necessary?

I glanced at my watch; it was already nearing noon, and at any moment food might be brought me.  I must wait until after that; then I should probably remain undisturbed for several hours.  I shoved back the bed in such position its head-board completely concealed the slight excavation, and sat down upon it, planning anew how best to proceed.  The time passed with no unusual sound reaching me from the hall without.  Billie evidently felt no desire to acquaint Judge Moran with my real identity, and perhaps would thus experience some difficulty in procuring