Roger returned to the library, to find Alec industriously tapping panels.
“I say,” said the latter, “several of these panels sound hollow.”
“Well, there’s no way through either into the drawing room or the storeroom, I’m convinced,” Roger remarked, closing the door behind him. “So that I don’t think it’s much use trying those walls haphazard.”
Alec paused. “What about a secret chamber, though? That wouldn’t necessarily need a way straight through. It might come out anywhere.”
“I thought of that. But the walls aren’t thick enough. They’re only about eighteen inches through. No, let’s go and have a look at it from the outside. There might possibly be some way into the garden.”
They went out through the open windows and contemplated the red-brick walls attentively.
“Doesn’t look very hopeful, does it?” said Alec.
“I’m afraid not,” Roger admitted. “No, I fear that the secret-door theory falls to the ground. I thought it would somehow.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Well, this house doesn’t belong to the Stanworths, you see, and they’ve only been here a month or so. I don’t suppose they’d know anything about secret passages, even if there were any.”