that's no use. There must be a basement, as the kitchen is not on this floor."

"This way, chief ... the kitchen-stairs are here."

They went down into a rather large kitchen, crammed full of wicker-work garden-chairs and flower-stands. Beside it was a wash-house, which also served as a cellar, and which presented the same untidy sight of objects piled one on the top of the other.

"What is that shiny thing down there, chief?"

Gourel stooped and picked up a brass pin with a head made of an imitation pearl.

"The pearl is quite bright still," said M. Lenormand, "which it would not be if it had been lying in this cellar long. Gertrude passed this way, Gourel."

Gourel began to demolish a great stack of empty wine-casks, writing desks and old rickety tables.

"You are wasting your time," said M. Lenormand. "If that is the way out, how would she have time first to move all those things and then to replace them behind her? Look, here is a shutter out of use, which has no valid reason for being fastened to the wall by that nail. Draw it back."

Gourel did so. Behind the shutter, the wall was hollowed out. By the light of the lantern they saw an underground passage running downwards.

"I was right," said M. Lenormand.. "The communication is of recent date.

You see, it's a piece of work hurriedly done, and not intended to last for any length of time... . No masonry... . Two planks placed cross-wise at intervals, with a joist to serve as a roof; and that is all. It will hold up as best it may: well enough, in any case, for the object in view, that is to say ..."

"That is to say what, chief?"

"Well, first to allow of the going backwards and forwards between Gertrude and her accomplices ... and then, one day, one day soon, of the kidnapping, or rather the total, miraculous, incomprehensible disappearance of Mrs. Kesselbach."

They proceeded cautiously, so as not to knock against certain beams which did not look over-safe. It at once became evident that the tunnel was much longer than the fifty yards at most that separated the house from the boundary of the garden. It must, therefore, end at a fair distance from the walls and beyond the road that skirted the property.

"We are not going in the direction of Villeneuve and the lake are we?"

asked Gourel.

"Not at all, the other way about," declared M. Lenormand.

The tunnel descended with a gentle slope. There was a step, then another; and they veered toward the right. They at once knocked up against a door which was fitted into a rubble frame, carefully cemented.

M. Lenormand pushed it and it opened.

"One second, Gourel," he said, stopping. "Let us think... . It might perhaps be wiser to turn back."

"Why?"

"We must reflect that Ribeira will have foreseen the danger and presume that he has taken his precautions, in case the underground passage should be discovered. Now he knows that we are on his track. He knows that we are searching the garden. He no doubt saw us enter the house.

How do I know that he is not at this moment laying a trap for us?"

"There are two of us, chief... ."

"And suppose there were twenty of them?"

He looked in front of him. The tunnel sloped upward again, closed by another door, which was at five or six yards' distance.

"Let us go so far," he said. "Then we shall see."

He passed through, followed by Gourel, whom he told to leave the first door open, and walked to the other door, resolving within himself to go no farther. But this second door was shut; and though the lock seemed to work, he could not succeed in opening it.

"The door is bolted," he said. "Let us make no noise and go back. The more so as, outside, by remembering the position of the tunnel, we can fix the line along which to look for the other outlet."

They therefore retraced their steps to the first door, when Gourel, who was walking ahead, gave an exclamation of surprise:

"Why, it's closed! ..."

"How is that? When I told you to leave it open!"

"I did leave it open, chief, but the door must have fallen back of its own weight."

"Impossible! We should have heard the sound."

"Then? ..."

"Then ... then ... I don't know ..." He went up to the door.

"Let's see, ... there's a key ... does it turn? ... Yes, it turns.

But there seems to be a bolt on the other side."

"Who can have fastened it?"

"They, of course! Behind our backs! ... Perhaps they have another tunnel that runs above this one, alongside of it ... or else they were waiting in that empty house... . In any case, we're caught in a trap.

He grew angry with the lock, thrust his knife into the chink of the door, tried every means and then, in a moment of weariness, said:

"There's nothing to be done!"

"What, chief, nothing to be done? In that case, we're diddled!"

"I dare say!" said M. Lenormand... .

They returned to the other door and came back again to the first. Both were solid, made of hard wood, strengthened with cross-beams ... in short, indestructible.

"We should want a hatchet," said the chief of the detective-service, "or at the very least, a serious implement ... a knife even, with which we might try to cut away the place where the bolt is most likely to be ... and we have nothing... ."

He was seized with a sudden fit of rage and flung himself upon the obstacle, as though he hoped to do away with it. Then, powerless, beaten, he said to Gourel:

"Listen, we'll look into this in an hour or two... . I am tired out.

... I am going to sleep... . Keep watch so long ... and if they come and attack us ..."

"Ah, if they come, we shall be saved, chief!" cried Gourel, who would have been relieved by a fight, however great the odds.

M. Lenormand lay down on the ground. In a minute, he was asleep.

When he woke up, he remained for some seconds undecided, not understanding; and he also asked himself what sort of pain it was that was tormenting him: