MR. DEELING had reached a crisis. The events of the previous night had been the last straw. He had waked up early in the night, though now he doubted whether he had ever been asleep. At any rate, he remembered hearing a queer throbbing noise away in the woods. For a long while he had thought that it was his imagination, but, after a time, he had got up to look out of the window, and he had been just in time to see two figures standing by the front door, two figures outside the castle at that hour. It had required an immediate investigation.
He had slipped on a coat and trousers and made straight for the door, even forgetting the false teeth which stood in the glass by his bedside. He had tried the handle, and then, to his stupefaction, he had found that his door was locked. He, Mr. Deelin
