alized the possibilities
of this house of mystery.

Perhaps the chairs were fixed. He tried them, but found he was mistaken,
except in one case. The great chair at the head of the table, solid and
heavy, was immovable, for it was clamped to the floor.

In one corner was a framework, and he guessed it to be the slide in
which the small provision lift ran.

His surmise was accurate, for even while he was examining it, a trap
opened in the ceiling, and there slid down noiselessly between the oiled
grids a tiny platform on which was a tray filled with covered dishes. He
lifted the viands from the little elevator to the table and inspected
them. There was a note written in pencil.

"You need have no fear in consuming the food we provide for you," it
ran. "Dr. Fall will personally vouch for its purity, and will, if
necessary, sample it in your presence. If you should need attendance you
will find a small bell fixed on the under side of the table."

Poltavo looked at the dinner. He was ravenously hungry; he must take the
chance of poison; after all, these people had him so completely in their
power that there was no necessity to take any precaution so far as his
food was concerned. He attacked an excellent dinner without discomfort
to himself, and when he had finished he bethought himself of the bell,
and finding it under the edge of the table, he pressed the button. He
had not long to wait; he heard the faint hum of machinery and walked
across to the barred gate of the lift, his pistol ready. He waited, his
eyes fixed up at the black square through which he expected the lift to
sink, and heard himself suddenly called by name.

He turned; Doctor Fall was standing in the centre of the room. By what
means he had arrived there was no evidence to show.

"I hope I did not surprise you," said the doctor, with his quiet smile;
"I did not come the way you expected. There are three entrances to this
room, and they are all equally difficult to negotiate."

"May I inquire the meaning of this outrage?" asked Poltavo.

"Your virtuous indignation does you credit, Count," said the doctor. He
sat down by the table, took a cigar-case from his pocket, and offered it
to his unwilling guest.

"You do not smoke; I am sorry. Would you like a cigarette?"

"Thank you, I have all the cigarettes I require," said Poltavo, briefly.

The doctor did not speak until he had leisurely bitten off the end of a
cigar and lit it.

"As I say," he we