"Master has locked himself in and will not answer me," she
explained. "All day I have waited to hear from him, for he often
likes to be alone; but an hour ago I feared that something was
amiss, so I went up and peeped through the key-hole. You must go
up, Mr. Thaddeus,--you must go up and look for yourself. I have
seen Mr. Bartholomew Sholto in joy and in sorrow for ten long
years, but I never saw him with such a face on him as that."

Sherlock Holmes took the lamp and led the way, for Thaddeus
Sholto's teeth were chattering in his head. So shaken was he
that I had to pass my hand under his arm as we went up the
stairs, for his knees were trembling under him. Twice as we
ascended Holmes whipped his lens out of his pocket and carefully
examined marks which appeared to me to be mere shapeless smudges
of dust upon the cocoa-nut matting which served as a stair-
carpet. He walked slowly from step to step, holding the lamp,
and shooting keen glances to right and left. Miss Morstan had
remained behind with the frightened housekeeper.

The third flight of stairs ended in a straight passage of some
length, with a great picture in Indian tapestry upon the right of
it and three doors upon the left. Holmes advanced along it in
the same slow and methodical way, while we kept close at his
heels, with our long black shadows streaming backwards down the
corridor. The third door was that which we were seeking. Holmes
knocked without receiving any answer, and then tried to turn the
handle and force it open. It was locked on the inside, however,
and by a broad and powerful bolt, as we could see when we set our
lamp up against it. The key being turned, however, the hole was