\"PartTwo；AutobiographicalStyle，\"heannounced，withawaveofhishand。\"IhoppedalongtheGuests’Corridor，andturnedintotheSouthCorridor。Istoppedatthelittlestudy。Dooropen；
nobodythere。Icrossedthestudytotheseconddoor，communicatingwithMrs。Macallan’sbedchamber。Locked！IlookedthroughthekeyholeWastheresomethinghangingoverit，ontheotherside？Ican’tsay——Ionlyknowtherewasnothingtobeseenbutblankdarkness。Ilistened。Nothingtobeheard。Sameblankdarkness，sameabsolutesilence，insidethelockedseconddoorofMrs。Eustace’sroom，openingonthecorridor。Iwentontoherhusband’sbedchamber。IhadtheworstpossibleopinionofMrs。
Beauly——IshouldnothavebeenintheleastsurprisedifIhadcaughtherinEustace’sroom。Ilookedthroughthekeyhole。Inthiscase，thekeywasoutofit——orwasturnedtherightwayforme——Idon’tknowwhich。Eustace’sbedwasoppositethedoor。Nodiscovery。Icouldseehim，allbyhimself，innocentlyasleep。I
reflectedalittle。Thebackstaircasewasattheendofthecorridor，beyondme。Isliddownthestairs，andlookedaboutmeonthelowerfloor，bythelightofthenight—lamp。Doorsallfastlockedandkeysoutside，sothatIcouldtrythemmyself。
Housedoorbarredandbolted。Doorleadingintotheservants’