The Door with Seven Locks

broad oblong landing, from which ran the two corridors into which the bedrooms opened. There were eight massive doors, four on each side. The corridor was lighted by long windows which looked down into a courtyard, formed by two wings of the building. In one of these was a self-contained suite, which had been the late Lord Selford’s private apartments, and in which, in point of fact, he had died. The other wing had been converted into servants’ quarters. There were no apartments above, the bedrooms being extremely lofty and running up to within a few feet of the roof. Facing the stairs was the “State Apartment,” as it was called, which had once been the principal bedroom of the house, and this had been assigned to Sybil and her mother.

XXVIII

Whilst the ladies were walking in the park after tea, Dick went from room to room and made a very thorough examination of windows and walls. He had procured a builder’s tape measure, and, with the assistance of one of the police officers who had arrived from London, he measured the room both inside and out, and compared his figures with those he obtained from the two apartments which flanked the state chamber. The difference was so slight as to preclude any possibility of there being a secret passage between the walls. These, as is usual in the Elizabethan buildings, were very thick and seemed solid enough.

The state apartment was a large room, rather overpoweringly furnished, with an old-fashioned four-poster bed set upon a dais. The walls were hung with tapestries; a few old pieces of furniture comprised its contents, and had the floor been covered with rushes it might have stood for an Elizabethan bedroom without one modern touch.

He pulled aside the long velvet curtains that hid the windows and saw that they were very heavily barred, and called up the caretaker.

“Yes, sir, these are the only windows in the house that have bars,” said the man. “The late Lord Selford had them put in after a burglary. You see, the porch is just below, and it is easy to get into the state room.”

Dick pulled open the leaded windows and examined the bars closely. They were firmly fixed and set so close that it was impossible for any but a child to squeeze through. As he was shutting the windows, Sneed came into the room.

“The ladies are sleeping here, aren’t they?” asked the stout man, and nodded his approval of the bars. “They’ll be safe enough. I’ll have a man in the corridor all night, one in the hall, and two in the grounds. Personally, I’m not worried about trouble coming tonight unless his lordship brings it with him. What time is he expected?”

“Between six and seven in the morning,” said Dick, and Captain Sneed grunted his satisfaction.

There was one other part of the house that Dick Martin was anxious to see, and here the caretaker was his guide. There was, he learned, a range of cellars running half the width of the main block. These were reached through an underground kitchen, one section was set aside as a wine cellar and was, he found, well stocked. There were no lights here save those which he carried, and, unlike many other cellars of these Elizabethan houses, the roof was not vaulted. Great oaken beams ran across the cellar, and these supported heavy wooden slats, black with age.

Apart from the wine cellar, this underground portion of Selford Manor was empty except for three large beer barrels, which had arrived only a few days before. He tapped them one by one, and on an excuse sent the caretaker upstairs. Dick’s sense of smell was abnormal, and when he sniffed it was not the smell of beer that reached his nostrils.

Looking round, he saw in a dark corner a small case opener. It was very new. Climbing the steps, he closed and bolted the door, and, returning to the barrels, prised open the end of one. The fumes now became overpowering. Dipping in his hand he ran his fingers through the glistening white flakes and grinned. Then, replacing the lid, he went up the steps.

This inspection satisfied Dick on many points. He went up to the hall and, passing to the back of the building, took his car and drove down to the lodge gates, returning on foot, not by the drive, but through the plantation which bordered the eastern portion of the estate.

The hour of crisis was at hand. He felt that the atmosphere was electric, and this night would settle, one way or the other, the mystery of Lord Selford’s long disappearance.

Before dinner he had an opportunity of a talk with the girl. They strode up and down the broad lawn before the house.

“Oh, yes, I slept,” she said with a smile. And then, unexpectedly: “Mr. Martin, I have given you an awful lot of trouble.”

“Me?” He was genuinely surprised. “I can’t see that you have given me more trouble than other people,” he went on lamely. “You have certainly caused me a lot of anxiety, but that is only natural.”

There was a pause.

“Do you feel that way about all⁠—your cases?” she asked, not looking at him.

“This isn’t a case⁠—Sybil,” he said, a little huskily. “I have a personal interest here. Your safety means more to me than anything else in the world.”

She shot one quick glance at him.

“And am I safe now?” she asked, and when he did not reply: “Why are we staying here tonight?”

“Mr. Havelock thinks⁠—” he began.

“Mr. Havelock is frightened,” she said quietly. “He believes that whoever these terrible people are, he has been chosen as the next victim.”

“Of whom is he afraid?” asked Dick.

“Of Stalletti,” she shuddered.

He looked at her in amazement.

“Why do you say that? Mr. Havelock has told you?”

She nodded.

“Men will say things to women that they will never confess to men,” she said. “Do you know that Mr. Havelock believes that Lord Selford is entirely