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The door was fastened, and he rapped sharply.

"Savini!" he called.

There was no answer. By this time the servants had been aroused, and he caught a glimpse of a man in shirt and trousers coming toward him and called him by name.

"What is wrong, Mr. Bellamy?"

"Don't ask fool questions," snarled the old man. "Get dressed, rouse all the servants, and search the castle. 'Phone down to the lodge and wake the keeper. Hurry."

At that moment Savini's door opened, and he stood, a startled figure in his pyjamas, holding a lighted candle in his hand.

"What——" he began.

Bellamy pushed past him into the room and glanced round suspiciously. One of the long windows was open, and he strode across and looked out. A narrow parapet ran immediately beneath the window. It was broad enough for a man to walk upon, given the requisite nerve.

"Didn't you hear the shot?"

"I heard something. I think it must have been you pounding on the door. What has happened?"

"Dress and come down to the library."

Suddenly he lurched forward without warning and jerked open the jacket of Savini's pyjamas. A square foot of bare chest was his reward, and he grunted his disappointment. He had expected to see a skin-tight green vest.