“Go on, friend Arthur. We want here no more concealments. Our hope now is in knowing all. Tell freely!”

So Art went on, “He had been there, and though it could only have been for a few seconds, he made rare hay of the place. All the manuscript had been burned, and the blue flames were flickering amongst the white ashes. The cylinders of your phonograph too were thrown on the fire, and the wax had helped the flames.”

Here I interrupted. “Thank God there is the other copy in the safe!”

His face lit for a moment, but fell again as he went on. “I ran downstairs then, but could see no sign of him. I looked into Renfield's room, but there was no trace there except � “ Again he paused.