Where is that contrivance?
Can you find it ?" The expert thought he could.

And, sure enough, after some ineffectual searching, he came upon another button well hid amid the tapestry on the wall, which, when pressed, caused something to be disengaged which gradually lowered the cage within reach of Mr.Gryce's hand.
"We will not send this poor bird aloft again," said he, detaching the cage and holding it for a moment in his hand.

"An English starling is none too common in this country.

Hark! he is going to speak." But the sharp-eyed bird, warned perhaps by the emphatic gesture of the detective that silence would be more in order at this moment than his usual appeal to "remember Evelyn," whisked about in his cage for an instant, and then subsided into a doze, which may have been real, and may have been assumed under the fascinating eye of the old gentleman who held him.

Mr.Gryce placed the cage on the floor, and idly, or because the play pleased him, old and staid as he was, pressed another button on the table--a button he had hitherto neglected touching--and glanced around to see what color the light would now assume.
But the yellow glare remained.