The way to the little cellar below the back office lay along a narrow passage, and this Mr. Martin followed, striking a fresh match as he went. Every detail came back to him, as though he had last passed this way yesterday, instead of fifteen years ago. The door of the little cellar closed with a spring; as he pushed it open the spring creaked with a note which he remembered so well, and the door closed behind him with the same muffled bang. Again he raised his match and looked around him anxiously. The cellar appeared to be the same as he had left it, even to a mildewed packing case against the wall, which had sometimes been used as a table. Only here, as in the larger cellar, the electricians had been at work. There was a lamp holder on the ceiling, but this time it held a lamp. It was evidently by the light of this lamp that Lacey had made his discovery. There was no reason why he should not use it too.