you notice?"

But Berrington noticed nothing beyond the fact that the wall was quite
warm. He said so, and the inspector chuckled once more. He seemed to be
pleased about something.

"That should tell you a story, sir," he said. "That house is supposed to
be empty; nobody has been here since early this morning. If you will
look up, you will see that the blank wall terminates in a high
chimney--obviously the kitchen chimney. This wall is quite hot, it is
the back of the kitchen fireplace--so obviously, if those people went
early to-day there would be very little fire, in fact the range would
have been out long ago. And what do we find? A hot wall that tells of a
good fire all day, a good fire at this moment, or these bricks would
have cooled down before now. If you listen you will hear the boiler
gently simmering."

It was all exactly as Field had said. Perhaps the servants had been sent
away for a day or two, indeed, it was very probable that they had. But
there was the big fire testifying to the fact that somebody was in the
house at that very moment.

"We are going to take risks," Field whispered. "If we are discovered we
shall be given into custody as two drunken sailors, given into the
custody of your friend Macklin and his sergeant, from whom we shall
probably escape. You may be very sure that we shall not be charged, for
the simple reason that the people here don't want their names or
anything about them to get into the papers; in fact, the less they see
of the police the better they will be pleased. Come along."

Field strode around to the kitchen window. The shutters were up, but not
so in the larder, which had no bars, and was only protected by a square
of perforated zinc. The inspector took a tool from his pocket and with
great care and dexterity, and without making the least noise, removed
the zinc from its place. Then a lantern flamed out.

"Come along," said Field, "we can easily get through here. We shall be
safe in the kitchen, for we know that the maids are not in the house."

For the present everything was absolutely plain sailing. And as Field
had anticipated there was nobody in the kitchen and nobody in the
corridor leading to the better part of the house. All the same, a big
fire, recently made up, was roaring in the range, showing that the place
was not quite deserted. And yet it was as silent as the grave.

It was the same in the hall, and the same in the living-rooms, where no
lights gle