Then it occurred to the waiting man that Orlinov and Tremont might intend to stop at one of the rooms on the second floor. Tremont had said something about viewing Orlinov's work.
Cliff saw the opportunity he needed.
Boldly, he came from his hiding place and approached the stairs. He stole softly upward.
The corridor above was deserted. He was right; they had entered another room.
Cliff hurried along the passage until he came to the door of the little turret. He entered and carefully locked the door behind him.
Up in the turret, he squeezed through the slit and scrambled along behind the protecting battlement. His last effort was a quick pull to the turret window.
Then the course was easy. Down the spiral stairway — a door locked behind him — the central staircase. Within two minutes, Cliff was gliding across the main hall into the living room.
His clothes were dusty from the stone. He brushed them at the fireplace. Then he dropped into his chair and lighted a cigarette. After a few moments, Cliff was comfortably settled. He drew a sheet of paper and an envelope from his pocket.
With a fountain pen, he inscribed a coded message in clear blue ink — the fluid which was used in all The Shadow's messages. He sealed the envelope and placed it in his pocket. Cliff was on his third cigarette when he heard Orlinov and Tremont returning. The two entered to find Cliff staring moodily at the embers of the fire.
"Mr. Tremont iss leaving on the next train," informed Orlinov. "We shall go with him to the station. Yess. You and I, Marslandt."