it, but, highly
polished as the boards were, I could detect no sign of such a thing
having taken place. The wainscoting of the hall next received my
attention, but with a similar result. And it was at this juncture that
another curious point in the evening's story struck me. When I had
admitted the inspector of police, I had unlocked and unchained the door.
I was the sole occupant of the building. How, therefore, had Pharos
conveyed his burden outside, and locked, chained, and bolted the door
behind him? Under the influence of this discovery I returned with all
speed to the studio. Perhaps he had not gone out by the front door at
all, but had made his escape by the windows at the back. These I
carefully examined, only to find them safely bolted as usual. The riddle
was beyond me. I had to confess myself beaten. Was it possible I could
have dreamed the whole thing? Had I fallen asleep in my chair and
imagined a meeting with Pharos which had really never taken place? Oh,
if only it could be true, what a difference it would make in my
happiness! And yet, staring me in the face, was the damning fact that
the mummy was gone. When I rose from my chair my mind was made up. I
would seek Pharos out, accuse him not only of the theft, but of the
murder, and make him understand, with all the earnestness of which I was
master, that justice should be done, and that I would no longer shield
him from the consequences of his villainy. It was only then I remembered
that I had no knowledge of the man's whereabouts. I considered for a
moment how I could best overcome this difficulty. Lady Medenham was, of
course, the one person of all others to help me. Since she had invited
the man to her house, it was almost certain that she would be able to
furnish me with his address. I would go to her without further waste of
time. Accordingly I made the necessary changes in my toilet and left the
studio. The rain had ceased and the streets were once more full of
sunshine. It was a pleasant morning for walking, but so urgent did my
business seem that I felt I could not even spare the time for exercise.
Hailing a hansom, I bade the man drive me with all possible speed to
Eaton Square. To my delight Lady Medenham was at home, and I was shown
forthwith to her boudoir. A few moments elapsed before she joined me
there, and then her first remark was one of astonishment.

"Why, Mr. Forrester, what is the matter with you?" she cried. "I have
never seen you lo