for me, while I was going off my nut looking for her, commended itself to what I call my sense of humour; and on my way it struck me that it would be the part of wisdom to pick up Champnell, because if there is a man who can be backed to find a needle in any amount of hay-stacks it is the great Augustus.—­That horse has moved itself after all, because here we are.  Now, cabman, don’t go driving further on,—­you’ll have to put a girdle round the earth if you do; because you’ll have to reach this point again before you get your fare.—­This is the magician’s house!’

CHAPTER XXXVII

WHAT WAS HIDDEN UNDER THE FLOOR

The cab pulled up in front of a tumbledown cheap ‘villa’ in an unfinished cheap neighbourhood,—­the whole place a living monument of the defeat of the speculative builder.

Atherton leaped out on to the grass-grown rubble which was meant for a footpath.

‘I don’t see Marjorie looking for me on the doorstep.’

Nor did I,—­I saw nothing but what appeared to be an unoccupied ramshackle brick abomination.  Suddenly Sydney gave an exclamation.

‘Hullo!—­The front door’s closed!’

I was hard at his heels.

‘What do you mean?’

’Why, when I went I left the front door open.  It looks as if I’ve made an idiot of myself after all, and Marjorie’s returned,—­let’s hope to goodness that I have.’

He knocked.  While we waited for a response I questioned him.

‘Why did you leave the door open when you went?’

’I hardly know,—­I imagine that it was with some dim idea of Marjorie’s being able to get in if she returned while I was absent,—­but the truth is I was in such a condition of helter skelter that I am not prepared to swear that I had any reasonable reason.’

‘I suppose there is no doubt that you did leave it open?’

‘Absolutely none,—­on that I’ll stake my life.’

‘Was it open when you returned from your pursuit of Holt?’

’Wide open,—­I walked straight in expecting to find her waiting for me in the front room,—­I was struck all of a heap when I found she wasn’t there.’

‘Were there any signs of a struggle?’

’None,—­there were no signs of anything.  Everything was just as I had left it, with the exception of the ring which I trod on in the passage, and which Lessingham has.’

’If Miss Lindon has returned, it does not look as if she were in the house at present.’

It did not,—­unless silence had such meaning.  Atherton had knocked loudly three times without succeeding in attracting the slightest notice from within.

’It strikes me that this is another case of seeking admission through that hospitable window at the back.’

Atherton led the way to the rear.  Lessingham and I followed.  There was not even an apology for a yard, still less a garden,—­there was not even a fence of any sort, to serve as an enclosure, and to shut off the house from the wilderness of waste land.  The kitchen window was open.  I asked Sydney if he had left it so.