“But it was the voice of a man!” I cried.

“Exactly! We have added one card to our hand, Watson, but it needs careful playing, all the same.”

My companion seemed to have no further plans for the day, and we did actually use our fishing tackle in the mill-stream with the result that we had a dish of trout for our supper. It was only after that meal that Holmes showed signs of renewed activity. Once more we found ourselves upon the same road as in the morning, which led us to the park gates. A tall, dark figure was awaiting us there, who proved to be our London acquaintance, Mr. John Mason, the trainer.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” said he. “I got your note, Mr. Holmes. Sir Robert has not returned yet, but I hear that he is expected tonight.”

“How far is this crypt from the house?” asked Holmes.

“A good quarter of a mile.”