oard
that backed them. He sidled himself slowly along towards the wall.

"Press the fourth brick of the fourth row," he said.

"You remember, Father Anthony?"

He had reached now what seemed to be the brick wall against which the
ends of the stairs rested; and that closed that end of the cellars
altogether. Anthony leaned in with a candle, and saw how that part of the
wall against his friend's right side slowly turned into the dark as the
fourth brick was pressed, and a little brick-lined passage appeared
beyond. Mr. Buxton edged himself sideways into the passage, and then
stood nearly upright. It was an excellent contrivance. Even if the
searchers should find the chamber beneath the stairs, which was unlikely,
they would never suspect that it was only a blind to a passage beyond.
The door into the passage consisted of a strong oaken door disguised on
the outside by a facing of brick-slabs; all the hinges were within.

"As sweet as a flower," said the architect, looking about him. His voice
rang muffled and hollow.

"Then the friends have removed the corpse," said Mary, putting her head
in, "while you were opening the door. There! come out; you will take
cold. I believe you."

"Are you satisfied?" said Mr. Buxton to Isabel, as they went upstairs
again.

"What are your outer defences?" asked Mary, before Isabel could answer.

"You shall see the plan in the hall," said Mr. Buxton.

He took down the frame that held the plan of the house, and showed them
the outer doors. There was first the low oak front door on the north,
opening on to the little court; this was immensely strong and would stand
battering. Then on the same side farther east, within the stable-court,
there was the servants' door, protected by chains, and an oak bolt that
ran across. On the extreme east end of the house there was a door opening
into the garden from the withdrawing-room, the least strong of all; there
was another on the south side, opposite the front door--that gave on to
the garden; and lastly there was an entrance into the priests' end of the
house, at the extreme west, from the little walled garden where Anthony
had meditated years ago. This walled garden had a very strong door of its
own opening on to the lane between the church and the house.

"But there are only three ways out, really," said Mr. Buxton, "for the
garden walls are high and strong. There is the way of the walled garden;
the iron-gates across the drive; and throug