"You will appreciate the difficulty of the situation, Watson.
There is nothing upon which we can apply for a warrant. Our
whole scheme might seem fantastic if laid before a magistrate.
The woman's disappearance counts for nothing, since in that
extraordinary household any member of it might be invisible for a
week. And yet she may at the present moment be in danger of her
life. All I can do is to watch the house and leave my agent,
Warner, on guard at the gates. We can't let such a situation
continue. If the law can do nothing we must take the risk
ourselves."

"What do you suggest?"

"I know which is her room. It is accessible from the top of an
outhouse. My suggestion is that you and I go to-night and see if
we can strike at the very heart of the mystery."

It was not, I must confess, a very alluring prospect. The old
house with its atmosphere of murder, the singular and formidable
inhabitants, the unknown dangers of the approach, and the fact
that we were putting ourselves legally in a false position all
combined to damp my ardour. But there was something in the ice-
cold reasoning of Holmes which made it impossible to shrink from
any adventure which he might recommend. One knew that thus, and
only thus, could a solution be found. I clasped his hand in
silence, and the die was cast.

But it was not destined that our investigation should have so
adventurous an ending. It was about five o'clock, and the
shadows of the March evening were beginning to fall, when an