eleven o’clock
Two days ago Jack Lamont disappeared ; a disappearance as complete as if he had never existed . The night before last , about ten o'clock , I thought I heard him come into his shop below my room . Sometimes he works there till daylight , and as , when absorbed in his experiments , he does not relish interruptions , even from me , I go on with my reading until he comes upstairs . Toward eleven o'clock I thought I heard slight sounds of a scuffle , and a smothered cry . I called out to him , but received no answer . Taking a candle , I went downstairs , but everything was exactly as usual , the doors locked , and not even a bench overturned . I called aloud , but only the echo of this barn of a room replied .