"I didn't. We're all here…'
"All? Do you mean two strange men are mixed up with my clothes?"
"No, but there's a way on to the secret stair at the back of your wardrobe. Come and look."
Mrs. Bosanquet clutched at the bed-post. "Are you telling me that I have been sleeping in this room and the whole while that Monk-person has been able to get in?" she asked faintly. "No, I don't want to see it. And I don't want those men pushing their way through my dresses. Go away, please. I am about to transfer all my belongings into Margaret's room."
Charles retreated, and closed the panel behind him. "Very unpleasant shock for the lady," the inspector said gravely.
"All things considered," Charles said, "I think we'd better go down stairs."
"Yes, sir, I think we had. I'll post a man in that room to-night, inspector."
"It would be as well," Michael agreed. "That seems to be the only entrance up here. Will you go ahead?"
"You take the lead," Tomlinson replied, and made room for him to squeeze past, "Take care how you tread," Michael warned them, and began to descend.
They went down, and down, past the library, past the moving stone, which Michael pointed out to them. At every step the atmosphere grew colder and danker. "I'm glad I'm not alone," said Charles. "I don't like it one little bit."