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"Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it." He

swung himself up onto the roof. "Ah, yes," he cried, "here's the

end of a long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did

it."

"But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter; "the ladder was not

there when the Rucastles went away."

"He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and

dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were

he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it

would be as well for you to have your pistol ready."

The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at

the door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy

stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the

wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and

confronted him.

"You villain!" said he, "where's your daughter?"

The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open

skylight.