"Ah, that is a reason best known to himself. I fancy—it seems absurd to say it—that the picture, when seen by you, will reveal something that is entirely passed over by others: something detrimental to himself, I mean—what, I cannot undertake to say."
"What can he have done with it?"
"It is inside that tower," replied the Baronet confidently.
"Why there? Why in existence at all? If he is so anxious, as you say, to prevent us from seeing it, the safe plan would be to destroy it altogether."
"That would be the course of a wise man—yes; but Angelo is a fond parent, you see; his picture is his favourite child, and he cannot bring himself to destroy it. Perhaps he intends after your departure to return it to me uninjured, concocting some cock-and-bull story as to where he found it. I trust to goodness he will do something of the kind," continued the Baronet. "So valuable a thing is no trifle to lose. If I could obtain proof that he has taken it, I would certainly bring him to book before the law."
"Can't we search the tower?" I said; "Angelo is absent."
"Exactly; but he takes care to lock the door every time he leaves it."
"Have you no other keys that will fit the lock?"
"The key of that lock has peculiar wards. There is no other like it in my possession."
"Well, let us go to the tower," I said. "He may for once have left the door unlocked—who knows?"