n-loft, and remembered how "Sharnall in D flat" had been interrupted
by the discovery. Why, Mr Sharnall might be in the church; perhaps he
had gone down to practise and been shut in. Perhaps his key had broken,
and he could not get out; he wondered that he had not thought of the
church before.

In a minute he had made up his mind to go to the minster. As resident
architect he possessed a master key which opened all the doors; he would
walk round, and see if he could find anything of the missing organist
before going to bed. He strode quickly through the deserted streets.
The lamps were all put out, for Cullerne economised gas at times of full
moon. There was nothing moving, his footsteps rang on the pavement, and
echoed from wall to wall. He took the short-cut by the wharves, and in
a few minutes came to the old Bonding-house.

The shadows hung like black velvet in the spaces between the brick
buttresses that shored up the wall towards the quay. He smiled to
himself as he thought of the organist's nervousness, of those strange
fancies as to someone lurking in the black hiding-holes, and as to
buildings being in some way connected with man's fate. Yet he knew that
his smile was assumed, for he felt all the while the oppression of the
loneliness, of the sadness of a half-ruined building, of the gurgling
mutter of the river, and instinctively quickened his pace. He was glad
when he had passed the spot, and again that night, as he looked back, he
saw the strange effect of light and darkness which produced the
impression of someone standing in the shadow of the last buttress space.
The illusion was so perfect that he thought he could make out the
figure of a man, in a long loose cape that napped in the wind.

He had passed the wrought-iron gates now--he was in the churchyard, and
it was then that he first became aware of a soft, low, droning, sound
which seemed to fill the air all about him. He stopped for a moment to
listen; what was it? Where was the noise? It grew more distinct as he
passed along the flagged stone path which led to the north door. Yes,
it certainly came from inside the church. What could it be? What could
anyone be doing in the church at this hour of night?

He was in the north porch now, and then he knew what it was. It was a
low note of the organ--a pedal-note; he was almost sure it was that very
pedal-point which the organist had explained to him with such pride.
The sound reassured