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In due time Adrian, feeling depressed and dreary, departed by the early train to Marlow, leaving Dentham in charge of the house at Hampstead. He expected Miss Maunders and Mr. Rudall to call about mid-day, but, prior to their arrival, made an exploration of the sitting-room on his own account, with a view to finding out, if possible, the secret chamber, which Rudall said must exist. But Dentham, though crafty enough in small villanies, was woefully ill-fitted for such a task, and after an hour's hard work, during which he examined the most unlikely places, gave up the search in disgust. If he had calmly sat down and logically argued the matter out, he might have come to some satisfactory conclusion, but, instead of doing this, he hunted about in blind confusion, with the natural result that nothing came of his work.
"It's all bosh," muttered Dentham to himself, sitting on a chair and mopping his heated brow. "I don't believe there's any such place -- it's my opinion the old cove's killed Mr. Lancaster, and hid his body in the garden."