our famous chimney-piece, I see. May I
ask, Mr. Westwick, how you find yourself in the hotel, this time? Have
the supernatural influences affected your appetite again?'

'The supernatural influences have spared me, this time,' Henry
answered. 'Perhaps you may yet find that they have affected some other
member of the family.' He spoke gravely, resenting the familiar tone
in which the manager had referred to his previous visit to the hotel.
'Have you just returned?' he asked, by way of changing the topic.

'Just this minute, sir. I had the honour of travelling in the same
train with friends of yours who have arrived at the hotel--Mr. and Mrs.
Arthur Barville, and their travelling companions. Miss Lockwood is
with them, looking at the rooms. They will be here before long, if
they find it convenient to have an extra room at their disposal.'

This announcement decided Henry on exploring the hiding-place, before
the interruption occurred. It had crossed his mind, when Agnes left
him, that he ought perhaps to have a witness, in the not very probable
event of some alarming discovery taking place. The too-familiar
manager, suspecting nothing, was there at his disposal. He turned
again to the Caryan figure, maliciously resolving to make the manager
his witness.

'I am delighted to hear that our friends have arrived at last,' he
said. 'Before I shake hands with them, let me ask you a question about
this queer work of art here. I see photographs of it downstairs. Are
they for sale?'

'Certainly, Mr. Westwick!'

'Do you think the chimney-piece is as solid as it looks?' Henry
proceeded. 'When you came in, I was just wondering whether this figure
here had not accidentally got loosened from the wall behind it.' He
laid his hand on the marble forehead, for the third time. 'To my eye,
it looks a little out of the perpendicular. I almost fancied I could
jog the head just now, when I touched it.' He pressed the head inwards
as he said those words.

A sound of jarring iron was instantly audible behind the wall. The
solid hearthstone in front of the fire-place turned slowly at the feet
of the two men, and disclosed a dark cavity below. At the same moment,
the strange and sickening combination of odours, hitherto associated
with the vaults of the old palace and with the bed-chamber beneath, now
floated up from the open recess, and filled the room.

The manager started back. 'Good God, Mr. Westwick!' he exclaimed,
'what does this mea