"Yes," muttered Jarvis; "it seems as if everybody knows it and nobody knows anything about it."
They proceeded along the passage to the other end, where the rigid attendant sat outside the Italian's door.
"No; she ain't come out yet," said the woman in her sullen way; "and she ain't dead, for I heard her moving about now and then. I dunno what tricks she's up to."
"Do you happen to know, ma'am," said Father Brown with abrupt politeness, "where Mr. Mandeville is just now?"
"Yes," she replied promptly. "Saw him go into his little room at the end of the passage a minute or two ago; just before the prompter called and the curtain went up. Must be there still, for I ain't seen him come out."
"There's no other door to his office, you mean," said Father Brown in an offhand way. "Well, I suppose the rehearsal's going in full swing now, for all the Signora's sulking."
"Yrs," said Jarvis after a moment's silence; "I can just hear the voices on the stage from here. Old Randall has a splendid carrying voice."
They both remained for an instant in a listening attitude, so that the booming voice of the actor on the stage could indeed be heard rolling faintly down the stairs and along the passage. Before they had spoken again or resumed their normal poise, their ears were filled with another sound. It was a dull but heavy crash and it came from behind the closed door of Mundon Mandeville's private room.
Father Brown went racing along the passage like an arrow from the bow and was struggling with the door handle before Jarvis had wakened with a start and begun to follow him.
"The door is locked," said the priest, turning a face that was a little pale. "And I am all in favour of breaking down this door."