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Savini dressed quickly and went down, to find the old man in the library, pacing up and down like a caged lion.

"Who locked the door of the servants' stairway?" he asked.

"I did," was the reply. "You gave me instructions to see that the door was locked every night."

The old man eyed him keenly.

"And you've got the key, of course?"

"As a matter of fact, the butler has it. I give it to him because he's up earlier than I. He has to open the door to let in the cleaners."

"Where is the key now?" snarled Bellamy, his red face inflamed still further. The great jaw was out-thrust and his eyes were the merest slits. "I tell you this, Savini, if you're not in this Green Archer fake, I've made one of the few mistakes that I've ever made. Find Wilks."

Savini went out into the grounds to discover the butler, accompanied by the two keepers that Bellamy maintained.

"I've got the key in my pocket," said Wilks, when the other had explained his errand. "It couldn't have gone that way, Mr. Savini."

He was carrying a bright vapour lamp, and this, when he came to the library, the old man requisitioned. They went upstairs again to the bedroom floor, and the butler turned the key of the little door and swung it open.