s silent in this matter
as if possessed of neither ear nor tongue. I will add memory, for if you
find this secret to be one in which we have no lawful interest, you are
to forget it absolutely and for ever. You will understand why when you
consult the St Regis register."

But they expected nothing from it; absolutely nothing.

XVI. DOUBT

I prayed uncle that we might be driven home by the way of Eighty-sixth
Street. I wanted to look at the Fairbrother house. I had seen it many
times, but I felt that I should see it with new eyes after the story
I had just heard in the inspector's office. That an adventure of this
nature could take place in a New York house taxed my credulity. I
might have believed it of Paris, wicked, mysterious Paris, the home of
intrigue and every redoubtable crime, but of our own homely, commonplace
metropolis--the house must be seen for me to be convinced of the fact
related.

Many of you know the building. It is usually spoken of with a shrug, the
sole reason for which seems to be that there is no other just like it in
the city. I myself have always considered it imposing and majestic; but
to the average man it is too suggestive of Old-World feudal life to
be pleasing. On this afternoon--a dull, depressing one--it looked
undeniably heavy as we approached it; but interesting in a very new
way to me, because of the great turret at one angle, the scene of that
midnight descent of two men, each in deadly fear of the other, yet
quailing not in their purpose,--the one of flight, the other of pursuit.

There was no railing in front of the house. It may have seemed an
unnecessary safeguard to the audacious owner. Consequently, the small
door in the turret opened directly upon the street, making entrance
and exit easy enough for any one who had the key. But the shaft and the
small room at the bottom--where were they? Naturally in the center of
the great mass, the room being without windows.

It was, therefore, useless to look for it, and yet my eye ran along the
peaks and pinnacles of the roof, searching for the skylight in which it
undoubtedly ended. At last I espied it, and, my curiosity satisfied on
this score, I let my eyes run over the side and face of the building for
an open window or a lifted shade. But all were tightly closed and
gave no more sign of life than did the boarded-up door. But I was not
deceived by this. As we drove away, I thought how on the morrow there
would be a regular