dark. I was
thinking, what if the Lost Casket should happen to be somewhere about
that place in the wall? and anyhow, it would be fun to explore it, and I
promised to show it to you, and I like to keep my promises, because
virtue is my only joy. Won't you come with me now, and let the rest go
on? Awfully nice in the garret, I am sure, but--won't you come,
please?"

"Oh," said Margaret, "that would be delightful! But--it is quite dark,
isn't it? and they have all the candles."

"All except this," said Gerald, drawing a slender cylinder from his
pocket. "Electric candle; you have seen them, of course. I brought it
with me, intending some such exploration, if permitted. I ran up and got
it, at Mr. Montfort's first word of this search. Come! the down-stairs
hall. This way; oh, please, this way."

Margaret hesitated, looking doubtfully at him. "I--don't know if I
ought," she said. "I should like it of all things, if I thought--"

"Don't think!" said Gerald, hastily. "Great mistake to think; wastes the
tissues awfully. Action first, thought afterward! aphorism! Or if you
must indulge in the baneful pursuit, think how much poor Jerry wants
you. Poor Jerry! child of misfortune!"

"Is that the way you get everything you want?" said Margaret, laughing,
as she followed him half-reluctantly down-stairs.

"One way; there are others. This is the best, since it procures me your
company. See, now! in this niche here, behind the big picture!"

He passed his hand along a panel; it swung back, revealing blackness.

Margaret stared. "I never knew that was a door!" she said. "Mr.
Merryweather, do you know, I think the person who built this house must
have been a smuggler, a magician, and a detective, all in one."

"Fine combination!" said Gerald. "I should like to have known the old
codg--I mean gentleman. No deep mystery here, though, beyond the secret
door. He did love secret doors, that ancestor of yours. He may have been
an architect, and have thought door-handles unsightly, as they are. But
see!"

They were now standing in a deep recess, and he waved his candle to and
fro. "This would appear to have been originally used as a kind of
store-room, or drying-room. See those hooks; probably for hams--if not
for hanging," he added. "If you prefer tragedy, Miss Montfort, you shall
have it. There is room for ten persons to hang here, without touching.
Their ghastly upturned faces, their blood-stained robes, glimmering
spectral whi