“I will take you to her,” the Professor replied.  Mrs. Rheinholdt’s story, by frequent repetition, had become a little more coherent, a trifle more circumstantial, the perfection of simplicity and utterly incomprehensible.  Quest listened to it without remark and finally made his way to the conservatory.  He requested Mrs. Rheinholdt to walk with him through the door by which she had entered, and stop at the precise spot where the assault had been made upon her.  There were one or two plants knocked down from the tiers on the right-hand side, and some disturbance in the mould where some large palms were growing.  Quest and Lenora together made a close investigation of the spot.  Afterwards, Quest walked several times to each of the doors leading into the gardens.

“There are four entrances altogether,” he remarked, as he lit a cigar and glanced around the place.  “Two lead into the gardens—­one is locked and the other isn’t—­one connects with the back of the house—­the one through which you came, Mrs. Rheinholdt, and the other leads into your reception room, into which you passed after the assault.  I shall now be glad if you will permit me to examine the gardens outside for a few minutes, alone with my assistant, if you please.”

For almost a quarter of an hour, Quest and Lenora disappeared.  They all looked eagerly at the criminologist on his return, but his face was sphinxlike.  He turned to Mrs. Rheinholdt, who with her son, the butler, and the Professor were the only occupants of the conservatory.

“It seems to me,” he remarked, “that from the back part of the house the quickest way to reach Mayton Avenue would be through this conservatory and out of that door.  There is a path leading from just outside straight to a gate in the wall.  Does any one that you know of use this means of exit?”

Mrs. Rheinholdt shook her head.

“The servants might occasionally,” she remarked doubtfully, “but not on nights when I am receiving.”

The butler stepped forward.  He was looking a little grave.

“I ought, perhaps, to inform you, madam, and Mr. Quest,” he said, “that I did, only a short time ago, suggest to the Professor’s servant—­the man who brought your mackintosh, sir,” he added, turning to the Professor—­“that he could, if he chose, make use of this means of leaving the house.  Mr. Craig is a personal friend of mine, and a member of a very select little club we have for social purposes.”

“Did he follow your suggestion?” Sanford Quest asked.

“Of that I am not aware, sir,” the butler replied.  “I left Mr. Craig with some refreshment, expecting that he would remain until my return, but a few minutes later I discovered that he had left.  I will enquire in the kitchen if anything is known as to his movements.”

He hurried off.  Quest turned to the Professor.

“Has he been with you long, this man Craig, Professor?” he asked.