The door resisted all efforts, therefore I presently turned my attention to the window, at last succeeding in unlatching it with the putty-knife, working back the bolt of the shutters and crawling inside the dirty, dismal kitchen.
At that moment Lady Judith had ascended the steps to the front door; and, groping my way in the semi-darkness up the stairs, I gained the wide old-fashioned hall, and, after some difficulty with the complicated lock, opened the door to her.
Then, together, we went forth to ascertain what mystery that closed and gloomy place contained.
Chapter Thirty Eight.
The Room of the Bear Cub.
Judith, who was no stranger to that house of mystery, first led me into the front room, where I had once awaited her; but the rays of light that came through the chinks of the closed shutters revealed nothing unusual. It was neglected and dusty, but orderly as before. The room behind was a bedroom, in disorder, with the bed unmade; but there was no occupant.
In eager breathlessness we ascended the stairs to the room in which stood the stuffed bear cub, but found the door locked and the key gone. We looked through the keyhole, but could discern nothing. To our loud raps there was no response.
“We must break it open,” I remarked, seeing no other way. And drawing back I rushed at it, throwing all my force against it.