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When he reached the library, he saw the bag and coat in the

corner. They must be hidden away somewhere. He unlocked a secret

press that was in the wainscoting, a press in which he kept his

own curious disguises, and put them into it. He could easily burn

them afterwards. Then he pulled out his watch. It was twenty

minutes to two.

He sat down and began to think. Every year-every month,

almost-men were strangled in England for what he had done. There

had been a madness of murder in the air. Some red star had come

too close to the earth.... And yet, what evidence was there

against him? Basil Hallward had left the house at eleven. No one

had seen him come in again. Most of the servants were at Selby

Royal. His valet had gone to bed.... Paris! Yes. It was to Paris

that Basil had gone, and by the midnight train, as he had

intended. With his curious reserved habits, it would be months

before any suspicions would be roused. Months! Everything could

be destroyed long before then.