As he could think of nothing to do in the matter, he was turning away; but just then a thought struck him. At the next turn in the hall was the staircase leading to the next floor.
“Suppose she has gone up there?” said he.
The floor above was not used by any of the members of the household, though all the rooms were completely furnished and open. Why any one should go up there Mr. Scanlon could not think.
“But,” reasoned he, “in Schwartzberg you can never tell. So I’ll climb the stairs just for luck.”
He proceeded to do so, not neglecting his light step. The upper hall was in complete darkness, save for what faint light the windows admitted, and he stood at the head of the stairs, looking carefully up and down. After a pause he started along the passage; half-way to its end he stopped suddenly.
A dozen steps away was an alcove, about which were some partly drawn hangings. These stirred gently as though moved by a breeze.
“A window is open,” said Scanlon, mentally. “And some one is sitting by it.”
He remained motionless in the shadow and watched. Yes; some one was there. A moment or two told him more.
“I’m sure those are the folds of a white gown,” he told himself. “The golden Helen is in the alcove. But what’s the idea?”
Now Mr. Scanlon was quite sure of one thing. And that was that no one would seek this unusual place and at such an hour without some purpose. He fancied he caught a glint of a polished surface at those points where the dim light caught it; then he became aware of a curious shape which he could not altogether make out. Cautiously he shortened the distance between himself and the alcove. And now he saw something else. Between him and the patch of sky which showed through the window was a series of perpendicular bars—very fine, and very close together. As he followed these up and down he gradually began to sense the shape of the other thing which had puzzled him. Then like a flash he got it all. The thing was a harp—a gilt harp—upon which the faint light was glancing, and the fine bars between him and the sky were its strings.