There was not so much as the outline of her footsteps to be seen upon the hardened crust of the snow.
"Come," whispered Hook, "this is the way she went, over toward the New Church street wall. She cannot get out; there are but two gates, and both are locked at night; it is twenty feet to the ground on the side towards which she disappeared, to say nothing of the fence she would have to climb."
They picked their way among the tombs to the rear of the church.
Here, in the cold starlight, the entire expanse of the church-yard was plainly visible from the fence on the Rector street side to the wall of the great Trinity Building at the upper end.
Not the faintest trace of the woman could be seen.
Footsteps there were in abundance, but the hardened crust had formed over them, showing plainly that they were the footsteps of persons who had passed over the snow some time before.
As it was Sunday, and service had been held in the Trinity Church twice at least during the day, there was nothing strange in this.
A score of people might have amused themselves wandering about among the moldering tombs, as the church-yard is free to all.
Detective Hook examined these footprints carefully.
Among them he recognized his own and those measured by him the night before.