"We must go on now," Venner said, impatiently. "It won't do to judge by
appearances. Let us go up the stairs and see what is going on for
ourselves. If we are intruding, we will get away as speedily as
possible."

Gurdon made no further objection, and together they crept up the stairs.
There was no chance of their being surprised from behind by the servants,
for they had taken good care to notice that the basement was all in
darkness. They were getting nearer and nearer now to the sound of the
music, which appeared to come from the drawing-room, the door of which
was widely enough open for the brilliant light inside to illuminate the
staircase. A moment later the music ceased, and someone was heard to
applaud in a hoarse voice.

"Sing some more," the voice said. "Now don't be foolish, don't begin to
cry again. Confound the girl, she makes me miserable."

"Do you recognise the voice?" Venner whispered.

"Lord! yes," was Gurdon's reply. "Why, it's Fenwick. No mistaking those
tones anywhere. Now, what on earth does all this mean?"

"We shall find out presently," Venner said. "You may laugh at me, but I
quite expected something of this kind, which was one of the reasons why I
obtained the keys of the house."

"It's a most extraordinary thing," Gurdon replied. "Now isn't this
man--Fenwick--one of the last persons in the world you would credit with
a love of music?"