Northmour, therefore, had entered by the back; this was
the natural and, indeed, the necessary conclusion; and you may
judge of my surprise when, on turning the house, I found the back
door similarly secured.
My mind at once reverted to the original theory of thieves; and I
blamed myself sharply for my last night's inaction. I examined all
the windows on the lower storey, but none of them had been tampered
with; I tried the padlocks, but they were both secure. It thus
became a problem how the thieves, if thieves they were, had managed
to enter the house. They must have got, I reasoned, upon the roof
of the outhouse where Northmour used to keep his photographic
battery; and from thence, either by the window of the study or that
of my old bedroom, completed their burglarious entry.
I followed what I supposed was their example; and, getting on the
roof, tried the shutters of each room. Both were secure; but I was
not to be beaten; and, with a little force, one of them flew open,
grazing, as it did so, the back of my hand. I remember, I put the
wound to my mouth, and stood for perhaps half a minute licking it
like a dog, and mechanically gazing behind me over the waste links
and the sea; and, in that space of time, my eye made note of a
large schooner yacht some miles to the north-east. Then I threw up
the window and climbed in.
I went over the house, and nothing can express my mystification.
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