study door he paused. There was no sound. He threw open the door,
directing the torch-ray into the room.

Cutting a white lane through the blackness, it shone fully upon his
writing-table, which was a rather fine Jacobean piece having a sort
of quaint bureau superstructure containing cabinets and drawers. He
could detect nothing unusual in the appearance of the littered table.
A tobacco jar stood there, a pipe resting in the lid. Papers and
books were scattered untidily as he had left them, surrounding a tray
full of pipe and cigarette ash. Then, suddenly, he saw something else.

One of the bureau drawers was half opened.

Stuart stood quite still, staring at the table. There was no sound in
the room. He crossed slowly, moving the light from right to left. His
papers had been overhauled methodically. The drawers had been
replaced, but he felt assured that all had been examined. The light
switch was immediately beside the outer door, and Stuart walked
over to it and switched on both lamps. Turning, he surveyed the
brilliantly illuminated room. Save for himself, it was empty. He
looked out into the hallway again. There was no one there. No sound
broke the stillness. But that consciousness of some near presence
asserted itself persistently and uncannily.

"My nerves are out of order!" he muttered. "No one has touched my
papers. I must have left the drawer open myself."

He switched off the light and walked across to the door. He had
actually passed out intending to return to his room, when he became
aware of a slight draught. He stopped.