he
tram. She ought to be home any moment now."

"Well, I'll hurry up with the job so that I'll be out of the way when
the lady comes," said Muller, as Franz led him to the misbehaving bell.

It was in the wall immediately above a large table which filled the
window niche so completely that there was but scant space left for the
comfortable armchair that stood in front of it. The window was open and
Muller leaned out, looking down at the garden below.

"What a fine old garden!" he exclaimed aloud. To himself he said: "This
is the last window in the left wing. It is the window where Johann Knoll
saw the red light."

And when he turned back into the room again he found the source of this
light right at his hand on the handsome old table at which Mrs. Bernauer
evidently spent many of her hours. A row of books stood against the
wall, framing the back of the table. Well-worn volumes of the classics
among them gave proof that the one-time nurse was a woman of education.
A sewing basket and neat piles of house linen, awaiting repairs, covered
a large part of the table-top, and beside them stood a gracefully shaped
lamp, covered by a shade of soft red silk.

It took Muller but a few seconds to see all this. Then he set about
his investigation of the electric button. He unscrewed the plate and
examined the wires meeting under it. While doing so he cast another
glance at the table and saw a letter lying there, an open letter half
out of its envelope. This envelope was of unusual shape, long and
narrow, and the paper was heavy and high-glossed.

"Your housekeeper evidently has no secrets from the rest of you," Muller
remarked with a laugh, still busy at the wires, "or she wouldn't leave
her letters lying about like that."

"Oh, we've all heard what's in that letter," replied Franz. "She read it
to us when it came this morning. It's from the Madam. She sent messages
to all of us and orders, so Mrs. Bernauer read us the whole letter.
There's no secrets in that."

"The button has been pressed in too far and caught down. That seems to
be the main trouble," said Muller, readjusting the little knob. "I'd
like a candle here if I may have one."

"I'll get you a light at once," said Franz. But his intentions, however
excellent, seemed difficult of fulfilment. It was rapidly growing dark,
and the old butler peered about uncertainly. "Stupid," he muttered. "I
don't know where she keeps the matches. I can't find them anywhere. I'm
n