Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall， and thestone-work had been broken into， but there were no signs of anyworkmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes walked slowly upand down the ill-trimmed lawn and examined with deep attentionthe outsides of the windows.
“This， I take it， belongs to the room in which you used to sleep，the centre one to your sister’s， and the one next to the mainbuilding to Dr. Roylott’s chamber？”
“Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one.”
“Pending the alterations， as I understand. By the way， there doesnot seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end wall.”
“There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move mefrom my room.”
“Ah！ that is suggestive. Now， on the other side of this narrowwing runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. Thereare windows in it， of course？”
“Yes， but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to passthrough.”
“As you both locked your doors at night， your rooms wereunapproachable from that side. Now， would you have the kindnessto go into your room and bar your shutters？”
Miss Stoner did so， and Holmes， after a careful examinationthrough the open window， endeavoured in every way to forcethe shutter open， but without success. There was no slit throughwhich a knife could be passed to raise the bar. Then with his lenshe tested the hinges， but they were of solid iron， built firmly intothe massive masonry. “Hum！” said he， scratching his chin in someperplexity， “my theory certainly presents some difficulties. No onecould pass these shutters if they were bolted. Well， we shall see ifthe inside throws any light upon the matter.”
A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from whichthe three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the thirdchamber， so we passed at once to the second， that in which MissStoner was now sleeping， and in which her sister had met with herfate. It was a homely little room， with a low ceiling and a gapingfireplace， after the fashion of old country-houses. A brown chestof drawers stood in one corner， a narrow white-counterpanedbed in another， and a dressing-table on the left-hand side of thewindow. These articles， with two small wicker-work chairs， madeup all the furniture in the room save for a square of Wilton carpetin the centre. The boards round and the panelling of the walls wereof brown， worm-eaten oak， so old and discoloured that it may havedated from the original building of the house. Holmes drew one ofthe chairs into a corner and sat silent， while his eyes travelled roundand round and up and down， taking in every detail of the apartment.
“Where does that bell communicate with？” he asked at lastpointing to a thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed， thetassel actually lying upon the pillow.
“It goes to the housekeeper’s room.”
“It looks newer than the other things？”
“Yes， it was only put there a couple of years ago.”
“Your sister asked for it， I suppose？”
“No， I never heard of her using it. We used always to get whatwe wanted for ourselves.”
“Indeed， it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there.
You will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as tothis floor.” He threw himself down upon his face with his lens inhis hand and crawled swiftly backward and forward， examiningminutely the cracks between the boards. Then he did the samewith the wood-work with which the chamber was panelled. Finallyhe walked over to the bed and spent some time in staring at it andin running his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took the bellropein his hand and gave it a brisk tug.
“Why， it’s a dummy，” said he.
“Won’t it ring？”
“No， it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting.
You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where thelittle opening for the ventilator is.”
“How very absurd！ I never noticed that before.”
“Very strange！” muttered Holmes， pulling at the rope. “Thereare one or two very singular points about this room. For example，what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator into anotherroom， when， with the same trouble， he might have communicatedwith the outside air！”
“That is also quite modern，” said the lady.
“Done about the same time as the bell-rope？” remarked Holmes.
“Yes， there were several little changes carried out about thattime.”
“They seem to have been of a most interesting character—dummy bell-ropes， and ventilators which do not ventilate. Withyour permission， Miss Stoner， we shall now carry our researchesinto the inner apartment.”
Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s chamber was larger than that of hisstep-daughter， but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed， a smallwooden shelf full of books， mostly of a technical character， anarmchair beside the bed， a plain wooden chair against the wall， around table， and a large iron safe were the principal things whichmet the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each andall of them with the keenest interest.
“What’s in here？” he asked， tapping the safe.
“My stepfather’s business papers.”
“Oh！ you have seen inside， then？”
“Only once， some years ago. I remember that it was full ofpapers.”
“There isn’t a cat in it， for example？”
“No. What a strange idea！”
“Well， look at this！” He took up a small saucer of milk whichstood on the top of it.
“No； we don’t keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon.”
“Ah， yes， of course！ Well， a cheetah is just a big cat， and yeta saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants， Idaresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine.” Hesquatted down in front of the wooden chair and examined the seatof it with the greatest attention.
“Thank you. That is quite settled，” said he， rising and puttinghis lens in his pocket. “Hullo！ Here is something interesting！”
The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hungon one corner of the bed. The lash， however， was curled uponitself and tied so as to make a loop of whipcord.
“What do you make of that， Watson？”
“It’s a common enough lash. But I don’t know why it should betied.”