There was no hiding place in view.
Every inch of the room was lit up by the powerful torch he carried, and, save for himself, the room was empty.

The first moment of realisation was chill and unnerving.

Then the slight smarting of the wound at his throat became convincing proof to him that there was nothing supernatural about this visit.

He lit up half-a-dozen of the candles distributed about the place and laid down his torch.

He was ashamed to find that his forehead was dripping with perspiration.
"One of the secret passages, of course," he muttered to himself, stooping for a moment to examine the locked, folding doors which separated his room from the adjoining one.