A careful perusal of the wall showed him that
there was indeed a door in it, but that the door was artfully disguised
by painting and other devices so as to look like part of the wall. He
had never seen such a phenomenon before. A very small glass knob was the
door's sole fitting. Denry turned this crystal, but with no useful
result. In the brief space of time since his entrance, that door, and
the door by which Jock had gone, had been secured by unseen hands. Denry
imagined sinister persons bolting all the multitudinous doors, and
inimical eyes staring at him through many keyholes. He imagined himself
to be the victim of some fearful and incomprehensible conspiracy.
Why, in the sacred name of common-sense, should he have been imprisoned
in the state suite? The only answer to the conundrum was that nobody was
aware of his quite unauthorised presence in the state suite. But then
why should the state suite be so suddenly locked up, since the Countess
had just come in from a drive? It then occurred to him that, instead of
just coming in, the Countess had been just leaving. The carriage must
have driven round from some humbler part of the Hall, with the lady in
black in it, and the lady in black--perhaps a lady's-maid--alone had
stepped out from it.
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