called the Room of the Caryatides, from the statues which support
the mantel-piece. This work is of comparatively recent execution:

it dates from the eighteenth century only, and reveals the corrupt
taste of the period in every part of it. Still, there is a certain

interest which attaches to the mantel-piece: it conceals a cleverly
constructed hiding-place, between the floor of the room and the ceiling

of the room beneath, which was made during the last evil days
of the Inquisition in Venice, and which is reported to have saved

an ancestor of my gracious lord pursued by that terrible tribunal.
The machinery of this curious place of concealment has been kept

in good order by the present lord, as a species of curiosity.
He condescended to show me the method of working it.

Approaching the two Caryatides, rest your hand on the forehead
(midway between the eyebrows) of the figure which is on your left

as you stand opposite to the fireplace, then press the head inwards
as if you were pushing it against the wall behind. By doing this,

you set in motion the hidden machinery in the wall which turns
the hearthstone on a pivot, and discloses the hollow place below.

There is room enough in it for a man to lie easily at full length.
The method of closing the cavity again is equally simple. Place both

your hands on the temples of the figures; pull as if you were pulling
it towards you--and the hearthstone will revolve into its proper

position again.
'You need read no farther,' said the Countess. 'Be careful

to remember what you have read.'
She put back the page of vellum in her writing-desk, locked it,

and led the way to the door.
'Come!' she said; 'and see what the mocking Frenchman called "The

beginning of the end." '
Agnes was barely able to rise from her chair; she trembled from head

to foot. Henry gave her his arm to support her. 'Fear nothing,'
he whispered; 'I shall be with you.'

The Countess proceeded along the westwardcorridor, and stopped
at the door numbered Thirty-eight. This was the room which had

been inhabited by Baron Rivar in the old days of the palace:
it was situated immediately over the bedchamber in which Agnes had

passed the night. For the last two days the room had been empty.
The absence of luggage in it, when they opened the door, showed that it

had not yet been let.
'You see?' said the Countess, pointing to the carved figure at

the fire-place; 'and you know what to do. Have I deserved that you
should temper justice with mercy?' she went on in lower tones.

'Give me a few hours more to myself. The Baron wants money--
I must get on with my play.'

She smiled vacantly, and imitated the action of writing with her right
hand as she pronounced the last words. The effort of concentrating

her weakened mind on other and less familiar topics than the constant
want of money in the Baron's lifetime, and the vague prospect

of gain from the still unfinished play, had evidently exhausted
her poor reserves of strength. When her request had been granted,

she addressed no expressions of gratitude to Agnes; she only said,
'Feel no fear, miss, of my attempting to escape you. Where you are,

there I must be till the end comes.'
Her eyes wandered round the room with a last weary and stupefied look.

She returned to her writing with slow and feeble steps, like the steps
of an old woman.

CHAPTER XXIV
Henry and Agnes were left alone in the Room of the Caryatides.

The person who had written the description of the palace--
probably a poor author or artist--had correctlypointed out

the defects of the mantel-piece. Bad taste, exhibiting itself
on the most costly and splendid scale, was visible in every part

of the work. It was nevertheless greatly admired by ignorant
travellers of all classes; partly on account of its imposing size,

and partly on account of the number of variously-coloured marbles
which the sculptor had contrived to introduce into his design.

Photographs of the mantel-piece were exhibited in the public rooms,
and found a ready sale among English and American visitors to

the hotel.
Henry led Agnes to the figure on the left, as they stood facing the empty

fire-place. 'Shall I try the experiment,' he asked, 'or will you?'
She abruptly drew her arm away from him, and turned back to the door.

'I can't even look at it,' she said. 'That mercilessmarble face
frightens me!'

Henry put his hand on the forehead of the figure. 'What is there
to alarm you, my dear, in this conventionally classical face?'

he asked jestingly. Before he could press the head inwards,
Agnes hurriedly" target="_blank" title="ad.仓促地，忙乱地">hurriedly opened the door. 'Wait till I am out of the room!'

she cried. 'The bare idea of what you may find there horrifies me!'
She looked back into the room as she crossed the threshold.

'I won't leave you altogether,' she said, 'I will wait outside.'
She closed the door. Left by himself, Henry lifted his hand once

more to the marbleforehead of the figure.
For the second time, he was checked on the point of setting

the machinery of the hiding-place in motion. On this occasion,
the interruption came from an outbreak of friendly voices

in the corridor. A woman's voice exclaimed, 'Dearest Agnes,
how glad I am to see you again!' A man's voice followed,

offering to introduce some friend to 'Miss Lockwood.' A third voice
(which Henry recognised as the voice of the manager of the hotel)

became audible next, directing the housekeeper to show the ladies
and gentlemen the vacant apartments at the other end of the corridor.

'If more accommodation is wanted,' the manager went on, 'I have a
charming room to let here.' He opened the door as he spoke, and found

himself face to face with Henry Westwick.
'This is indeed an agreeable surprise, sir!' said the manager cheerfully.

'You are admiring our famous chimney-piece, I see. May I ask,
Mr. Westwick, how you find yourself in the hotel, this time?

Have the supernatural influences affected your appetite again?'
'The supernatural influences have spared me, this time,' Henry answered.

'Perhaps you may yet find that they have affected some other member
of the family.' He spoke gravely, resenting the familiar tone in

which the manager had referred to his previous visit to the hotel.
'Have you just returned?' he asked, by way of changing the topic.

'Just this minute, sir. I had the honour of travelling in the same
train with friends of yours who have arrived at the hotel--

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Barville, and their travelling companions.
Miss Lockwood is with them, looking at the rooms. They will be here

before long, if they find it convenient to have an extra room at
their disposal.'

This announcementdecided Henry on exploring the hiding-place,
before the interruption occurred. It had crossed his mind,

when Agnes left him, that he ought perhaps to have a witness,
in the not very probable event of some alarming discovery taking place.

The too-familiar manager, suspecting nothing, was there at his disposal.
He turned again to the Caryan figure, maliciously resolving to make

the manager his witness.
'I am delighted to hear that our friends have arrived at last,' he said.

'Before I shake hands with them, let me ask you a question about
this queer work of art here. I see photographs of it downstairs.

Are they for sale?'
'Certainly, Mr. Westwick!'

'Do you think the chimney-piece is as solid as it looks?'
Henry proceeded. 'When you came in, I was just wondering whether this

figure here had not accidentally got loosened from the wall behind it.'
He laid his hand on the marbleforehead, for the third time.

'To my eye, it looks a little out of the perpendicular.
I almost fancied I could jog the head just now, when I touched it.'

He pressed the head inwards as he said those words.
A sound of jarring iron was instantly" target="_blank" title="ad.立即，立刻">instantlyaudible behind the wall.

The solid hearthstone in front of the fire-place turned slowly
at the feet of the two men, and disclosed a dark cavity below.

At the same moment, the strange and sickeningcombination of odours,