They found Dollops waiting in the little squared-in courtyard which led down to the dungeons, and in a state bordering upon hysteria from the excitement of all those exciting things which had just come to pass.
He blurted out his story of Jarvis's practical joke and its ultimate consequences in a helter-skelter fashion, anxious to get on to this new development, and except for a "By James!" from Mr. Narkom and a nod of the head from Cleek, pursued his course without interruption.
"And when we'd walked a mile or so over them 'ills and dahn inter the dales, Minnie ups and says ter me, 'Come an' 'ave a drink, Ginger-snap!' And er course I was nuffin' loaf, as they s'y (though what bread 'as to do with it I niver could tell). So we comes upon a pub in a little bit of a shanty built of timber dahn in the nest of the 'ills, and she tykes me by the arm and pulls me inter it."
"And what did you find there, Dollops?" put in Cleek, with a smile for the lad's poetical expression.
"A bit of a bar full of Scotties wot looked asthough they'd come 'ome from a funeril, from the h'expression of their fyces," he returned emphatically. "Them Scotties do take their pleasure sadly, not 'arf! Not a blinkin' one of 'em got a bit er jollyin' left in 'em. ''Ello, Minnie-gairl,' they s'ys to 'er wen we come in, 'who's the noo mon ye ken?'—talkin' in their silly langwidge wot an Englishman can't unnerstand. 'Pal o' mine,' s'ys Minnie, pert-like, 'come ter visit fer a little time. Gen'leman's st'yin' at the Castle.'
"'Where that there wee beetie o' crrime has taken place?' puts in a sandy-'eaded feller wiv beetling brows an' a complexion like a bit er red granite. 'Yes,' says Minnie. 'Then better give 'im a wee drappier ter warrm 'is freetened hearrt!'"
Dollops paused a moment, and Cleek threw back his head and gave vent to a smothered laugh.
"You'll be the death of me yet, lad," he remarked merrily, "with your Cockney and 'Scotch' rolled into one. But let's hear the end of the story. What happened then?"
"They giv me a drink, Guv'nor, of very strong whisky it were, an' when I asked 'em where it come from an 'oo made it, thinkin' I'd lay in a bottle or two fer when we gets back ter Clarges Street, a feller wot just come in (an' a bit tight 'e were, too) slaps me on the back and says, 'Hoo noo, laddie? It's frae the valley, under the little brookies and amangst th' gravel.'"
"And what did you say, Dollops?"
"I told him in good old English ter go tell that ter the marines and stow the gaff, and he ups and larfs at me, and he says, says 'e, 'I'll show ye if I speak the truith or no.' And then a lot o' 'em says, 'Hoots' and 'toots' and 'nah,' as though they was monkeys in the zoo, and set up such a gabbling as you never 'eared of, and the end of it was that ole Barmy tykes me by the arm and pushes me through the door. 'Come from Lunnon, does yer?' he says ter me. 'Well, then, never any tellin' but ye can gie us a han' wi' disposin' of our wares.' And with that he ups and pulls Minnie along with him, in spite of them uvvers, and off we goes dahn th' 'ill inter a deep sort of gravel-pit, and there—the blinkin' thing was, sir, as large as life and twice as nateril!"
"My dear chap!—what the dickens does he mean, Cleek?" threw in Mr. Narkom at this juncture.
"Simply what he says. And it was there, was it, Dollops?"
"It were, sir"; Dollops's tone was portentous with mystery; "and what's more, there was that black-eyed Dago feller wiv the chase-me look and the hearf-brush moustache, talkin' fifteen ter the dozen in sevin different langwidges, and makin' more noise than all the rest of 'em put together."
"Gad! you've surely found out something, Dollops, and done a good day's work, bless your heart,"said Cleek admiringly, slipping his arm through the boy's on one side and through Mr. Narkom's on the other. "Well, it's to the gravel-pit with the lot of us this evening—at least for you and me, Dollops. You had better remain here at the Castle, Mr. Narkom, while we're gone. And meet me at midnight under the big gate. But let's not be seen, Dollops, else the fat will be in the fire with a vengeance. Anything else?"
Dollops bent nearer to the man he loved best in all the world, and put his mouth close up against Cleek's ear.
"One uvver fing, sir—an' wot I calls the piece of resisters," he said in a low voice. "As I comes aw'y, 'oo should I see a-runnin' dahn the 'ill, side by side with Dicky-Dago, but that there young feller as they calls Cyril (sickenin' sissy sort er nyme ter give a chap, too!), an' I jumps back inter the bushes wiv Minnie clinging ter me arm, an' waits till they've gorn parst. An' I 'ears the youngster s'y you nyme—'Mr. Deland,' he says, an' 'clever'—and then summink else, wot I didn't 'ear, but wot made Dicky-Dago give out a sort er garsp and gurgle in 'is froat, an' says something which sounded like a Russian patent medicine, an'—that's all."
"And a very good 'all', too, Dollops," ejaculated Cleek, giving the boy's arm a squeeze. "You have surely done your share of unravelling in this case,at all events. What do you say about it, Mr. Narkom?... There'll be a nice five-pound note to add to that growing account of yours for this night's job, I promise you.... And so Cyril is mixed up in it, too—Cyril!That boy! Gad! what does it mean, eh? And in league with those scoundrels.... 'Ten o'clock for bedtime,' says he, so frankly. Ten o'clock! And the young underhanded rascal roaming the countryside just before that in company with an Italian of questionable character! Looks bad, every way you look at it. And with Lady Paula's actions and secret meetings taken into account as well, puts a pretty black face upontheirlittle share in last night's tragedy. Now, I wonder if this Dago, as Dollops calls him, is a lover of the lady's or what?... Gad! Mr. Narkom, what's your opinion?"
The Superintendent waited a moment, and cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice was emphatic and a trifle bored.
"No two questions about it, to my way of thinking," said he quietly, as they traversed the darkness together. "That Captain Macdonald did the thing—because of those footprints of his outside the window—and as he couldn't or wouldn't give the reason of why he was in the grounds here last night at that identical time. And the person he was shielding was obviously Lady Paula. She, too, has been involved in this, though whether in theactual murder or not, I'm not prepared to say. And Ross Duggan, too. I imagine the whole thing is a put-up job; don't you, Cleek?"
"I can't rightly say," returned Cleek in an uncertain tone. "Sometimes it points one way and sometimes another. And I'm inclined to agree with you where Lady Paula is concerned. She knows a good deal more than she says, and is wily—deuced wily, as all drug-takers are. And the motive would be there all right, judging from what Maud Duggan told me was the share which Sir Andrew had apportioned out for his widow and her boy. She'll double that easily enough. But tokillfor such a thing seems incredible—though I've known of worse crimes for less reason than that. But Ross Duggan's is the greatest motive of all, taking into consideration just when the thing happened—beforehis name was erased, you must remember, Mr. Narkom, and as he's a dabster at electricity and the only person with an air-pistol in the house ... well, circumstantial evidence looks pretty black against him, doesn't it?"
"It certainly does." Mr. Narkom's voice was a trifle apologetic. "Well, I hardly know what to think, Cleek. And you're such a beggar for stringing evidence together, and never forgetting it! And there's such a dickens of a lot of evidence in this case that a chap gets horribly involved, and his memory is likely to play him tricks. And thenthat Italian chap whom Dollops has seen such a lot of to-day—where does he come in?"
"Right into the midst of the whole caboosh," returned Cleek enigmatically, "and don't you make any mistake about that, my friend. Dicky-Dago, to use Dollops's name, is one of the prime movers in this little inheritance game, and in another one also. A dollar to a ducat he knows the whole thing, and Tweed Coat's with him."
"Who the dickens is Tweed Coat?"
"The gentleman whom Dollops so aptly described a few moments ago," returned Cleek quietly. "Perhaps you didn't notice Ross Duggan's coat this morning, Mr. Narkom? No? Well, it was made of a very sweetly smelling cloth called Harris tweed; and when Dollops described the one he saw to me this evening, I recognized it at once."
"Then Tweed Coat is Ross Duggan, Cleek?"
Mr. Narkom's voice was a trifle shrill. Cleek's eyes met his squarely, and his eyebrows went up.
"Who else?" he said.
And so it came about that Dollops and Cleek, both wearing dark suits (procured in Cleek's case at the Three Fishers, and from his own dressing-bag), and with caps pulled down over their faces and false moustaches decorating their upper lips as a protection against unforeseen discovery, made their way out in the clear moonlight toward that "gravel pit" of which Dollops had spoken, and padded soft-footedly down the hill toward the little "shanty" to which Dollops guided them, and after a quick glance at it, pushed on into the darkness of the night; down, down, down into the valley—to the thing that lay there revealed in the moon's rays, and which in the face of the to-morrow's sun would have vanished like the picture upon an exposed camera film.
But to-night—to-night they could see the whole panorama of it, lying close to the earth, concealed behind a huge furze-bush upon the hillside, stomachs flat against the face of it, eyes sharpened upon that identical spot which told so much to them of what they sought. Perhaps a dozen men worked there—perhapsmore—coats off, shirt-sleeves rolled up—big, bonny men of brawn and muscle, come of a stock as tough as the granite of the hillside itself and hardened by the keen winds and the keener air of the Highlands that had given them birth.
"Giants!" whispered Dollops awe-inspiringly, his lips close against Cleek's ear.
"Thieves!" responded Cleek, with a quick intake of the breath. "Gad! they're a lot, Dollops! And if they caught us up here, hidden away, our chances would be exactly nil. Where's your friend Balmy, eh?"
"Dahn there—under that big flare, sir—'im wiv the blue shirt and the red neck-cloth. Likely lookin' blighter, ain't 'e?"
"H'm. Not very. Not a sound, boy! There's a couple of 'em coming this way. Got it in barrels, have they? Gad! I'd like to have a look at one of those homely articles. I'll swear there's a false bottom to it, if I know anything of this kind of trickery.... Hello!—there's Tweed Coat!"
"Tweed Coat," thus named, passed a stone's throw in front of them, his arm linked with another man's, his head downbent. But Cleek had seen the moonlight upon his face, and knew his man at last. Ross Duggan had worn that coat this morning, or one so like it that even he, hawk-eyed detective that he was, could have told no difference between them. The moonlight struck upon the white bosomof his evening-dress shirt, making it shine like a strip of ivory, and at something which his companion said to him, he caught it close together, and turned the collar of the jacket up about his throat.
First the handkerchief so plainly marked "R. D." and now this! But that such a man should be mixed up in a thing of this sort, an illicit thing which was against all laws and regulations of the land that had borne him, made Cleek's mouth go grim. The handkerchief, the coat; and now—the man. That little chain was completed, and every link welded together. At least some part of the mystery was clear at last.
The pair passed close against them where they lay in the darkness, so close that Cleek's fingers might have reached out and caught at the other's trouser-leg and tripped him. But the time was not yet ripe for arrests. Better let the thing go unsuspected until to-morrow afternoon, and then, when the Coroner's Inquest was at hand, rally them all together in the library once more, and make the final settlement.
Here was only a part of the thing, not the whole thing itself, and if he knew one of his men, he did not yet feel certain of the other. The night should bring that uncertainty into clarity if possible.
The darkness hid the couple from view at length, and when their footsteps had died away into silence, Cleek touched Dollops upon the shoulder and commencedwriggling upon his stomach down toward the next furze-bush, and out into the open, lying flat as Indians do, until they had slid the distance between the two clumps of shrubs, and lay concealed, some twelve feet nearer to the scene of operations.
"See anything of your Dago friend?" whispered Cleek, after they had watched for a while in silence at this hive of living industry which, when the dawn had penetrated through the veil of night, would have passed out of sight and vision as though it were a mirage of their own imagining.
Dollops's voice was barely above a breath.
"Yessir. Just dahn there ter the right. Feller wiv the big black moustache. Slim-'ipped Johnny in the dark suit. Got blinkers on 'im like black velvet from wot I sees. Proper furriner—the dirty dog! Find 'im, sir?"
"Not yet. Oh! yes, I see! H'm. AnItalianall right. But what the dickens is an Italian doing in these outlandish parts? And what attraction can this perishing climate have for people of their ilk? First the Lady of the Castle—and now this one. Unless.... Gad! there might be some connection between 'em. Did you find any trace of Captain Macdonald's handwriting, Dollops, to show me?"
"Yessir. Got a letter from 'is groom. Pinched it while we was a-talkin'. 'E showed it ter me, an' it's in me pocket. Summink wrongthere, Gov'nor?"
"So wrong that it will take more than a little explaining upon the gentleman's part to put it right, my lad," responded Cleek in a whisper. "I want to see that letter—badly. But it will have to wait until we are back again at the house. And we'll be back in a jiffy. I'm satisfied with the result of this night's work, in this direction, at any rate, Dollops. You've done well—better than I could have done in similar circumstances, and I'm downright pleased with you!"
"Lor', sir!" Dollops's voice was choking with joyful emotion. "If yer goes and frows any more buckets at me, me chest will expand that big wiv pride as they'll be spottin' us in a trick—strite they will! But I'm glad I've made up for that footlin' mistyke over the lydy.... Gawd! Look, Guv'nor—look! 'Oo's this a-comin' now? A woman—strike me pink, if it ain't! And a lydy, too, from the cut of 'er. Now, 'oo in 'eavin's nyme isshe?"
His pointing finger brought Cleek's eyes instantly into the line of it, and Cleek's face in the moonlight went suddenly pale. Dollops's eyes rested on the grim mask of his face, palely visible from the moon's rays. Then, at a sign from Cleek, he ducked his own head into the grass and lay motionless, as his master had already done.
And by the sound of the soft footsteps, coming from somewhere behind them, Cleek and his companion knew that the woman had reached the spotwhere they were lying hidden under the great clump of gorse. Then a hand reached down and touched Cleek softly upon the shoulder, and a woman's voice spoke into the darkness with a tender inflection; and at sound of it every nerve in his body tightened like wire for the tensity of the situation.
"Ross," said the woman's voice tenderly, "Ross dear, get up—get up! I followed you here to-night, because I—I wanted to talk with you— Ihadto talk with you, to tell you something! I simply had to. But I've been a fool to break parole, as you have done, with that man with the hawk eyes in the Castle even at this minute. But so much hangs upon it—Ross, so much! Look up and speak to me, and, whoever your companion is, tell him to go away until we have had a word together. Look up, look up—do!"
To say that Cleek was startled was to underestimate the matter altogether. Here was a pretty kettle of fish indeed! It took exactly three seconds for him to act, and to act in such an extraordinary fashion as to call forth a gasp from Dollops, whose head was still half ducked, with one arm upthrown to hide it from the woman's eyes, and to register in his loyal heart the fact that this master whom he served was a miracle-worker indeed.
For Cleek's hand had flashed up in the darkness and taken the moustache from his lip, and as the woman still continued to plead with him in her soft voice Dollops, peering through the upthrown arm, saw the features of the man he loved writhe suddenly as though they had been made of rubber, saw him twitch up his hand and muffle his coat-collar about his neck, and then realized with a gasp that here at his side lay such a fair representative of Ross Duggan as might even be mistaken for that gentleman in this dark hour of the night.
And from the lips of this astonishing personproceeded Ross Duggan's voice, with its curious clipped Scotch inflection and the little habit of clearing the throat which was so indicative of the man, and which Dollops—trained as he was by Cleek's quick observation—had already noticed for himself in the couple of times he had seen and listened unseen to the gentleman.
He saw Cleek get to his feet, and twitch his shoulders up and his cap down, as he faced the lady in her thin dark wrap through which the glimmer of some light satiny material showed like a line of fire.
"My dear girl," said Ross Duggan's voice a trifle testily, "what a fool you are to come out here at this time—if you'll excuse my saying so! Sit down, for heaven's sake, if you must be here, and don't let those men down there see you. I'm—I'm making some observations on my own, but at any minute someone may come up here—and I wouldn't answer for the consequences. You've fallen into a hornet's nest, Catherine, and only a woman with some desperate plan of action would do that. Don't you know what's being carried on down there?"
She shook her dark head, and dropped instantly into a little heap of satin and dark-coloured velvet beside him in the darkness.
"No," she whispered softly. "I wondered what you were doing, and who your companion might be.Send him away, Ross. Imustspeak with you alone!"
"All right." The inflection of voice was so identical with that of the new lord of the manor as to make Dollops fairly jump at sound of it. He would hardly have been able to believe the evidence of his own ears if he had not seen this thing done before in those old Apache days, in the Inn of The Twisted Arm, when the notorious Margot and her crew had run them to earth and this was the only way out: "Get along there, Parsons. There's nothing more to be seen now. You can meet me some time next week—if things go all right with me and I'm not already swinging at the end of a long rope! And we'll have another confab together. But you'd better make yourself scarce now. There'll be a dickens of a kybosh if they find we've broken parole, and I don't want you hauled into the beastly thing. So long. Andlisten—listen: be careful—do!"
Dollops nodded his head forthwith, and by dint of wriggling and scrambling made his exit from this astonishing pair, and, free of the bare moorside at last, broke cover and started off at a good run, wondering what the dickens they had stumbled intonow.
Meanwhile the erstwhile Ross and his lady friend sat on behind the furze-bush in their somewhat ridiculous predicament, and talked in whispers.
"What is it you want to say to me?" said "Ross,"a hint of sharpness in his low-pitched voice. "That you should run this risk—it is madness, Catherine—madness!"
"Nothing is madness that I could do foryoursake," she responded passionately, putting a hand over his as it rested upon the brown earth, and bending toward him. "Don't you know, Ross, haven't you guessed my secret yet? Surely you must have seen it? I have tried to tell you with my eyes, time and time again, and when I have caught that odd look in yours when you looked at Cynthia. I felt my heart bound with gladness that you did not care for her. And that has made me brave. Oh, my dear—my dear! Listen to me, and do what I ask of you. If youdidkill your father, Ross, that man down there at the Castle will make you swing for it. I know it—I feel it here—here! Those penetrating eyes of his can see beyond the veil of deception right down into your heart. If you have done this dreadful thing, tell me, and I have made all arrangements that you can escape at once. I've a car waiting in the lane. I 'phoned for it at the garage by the station only a bare two hours ago—and I had a difficulty, too, as you can imagine, with the whole house full of policemen and our every action watched. But I was desperate—desperate! I couldn't see you arrested forthat! And so, while there is yet time.... Oh, don't you see? It's your liberty I'm offering you! Andwe could start away together and make our lives afresh in a new country. Ross, Ross, don't you hear, don't yousee? Every minute is precious while that man is in command at the Castle. He looks a fool—but he is a clever fool at that. I don't trust him. I'm not a weak woman, Ross, to be afraid of a murderer—pshaw! what is that? If a man has need to do it, and the courage, I can evenadmire! And I love you! Don't speak now, Ross—just come, and let us slip away together. In this wild country we can soon be lost—slip down the coast and get away on the first steamer to—anywhere! I've money on me—see here. Plenty of it! I sent Hilda down to draw it all out of the bank this morning. (Thank God for the comfort of your telephone!) She'd do anything for me—that girl—since I caught her stealing Cynthia's pearl necklace, and threatened her if she didn't return it to tell the whole sordid story to the family. And she swore to help me any time I needed her. So come, Ross—come now—come quickly! but come—come!"
Her whispered words trailed off into silence at last, and Cleek, catching his breath for a moment at the whole audacious plot which she had laid so successfully, could not help but admire, even as he felt the rush of contempt that a man must feel for every woman who can cheapen herself thus in his eyes. But here was a pretty kettle of fish indeed!What to say to her? what to do? It took time to think, so he merely caught her hand and squeezed it, and felt all sorts of a beast for making such use of her confession as to lead her on to even deeper things.
She reached a hand out at the pressure of his fingers, and wound it about his neck.
"You'll come?" she whispered close against his ear.
He shrugged his shoulders. The issue must be faced, and faced now.
"Let's get out of this danger-zone, where we can talk in a little more comfort and less fear of our lives," he responded quickly, casting his eyes about him to see if the coast was clear. "Quick! draw your dark wrap over your head and make for cover. That furze-bush over there! Get behind it, and drop down, and I'll follow. From there, there is a chain of bushes behind which we can make for the high-road at last. Quick! the men are coming this way, some of them. And if we're caught...!"
Her face was fearless. She acted instantly upon his suggestion, gathering her dark velvet cloak about her and pulling it up over her face and head, and then sped out suddenly across the open space like a fleet shadow, until a shaft of moonlight, penetrating through the clouded sky, fell full upon her hurrying figure, etching it almost as clearly as though it had been day.
Cleek sucked in his breath and, half-crouching, half-running, sped after her. God! what if the men had seen! He glanced back quickly over his shoulder, and then redoubled his pace. For, of a sudden, with the speed of a lightning-flash every flare in that valley had gone out—zip!—like that. Every voice had dropped to stillness, and the night was a hideous thing of running footsteps, pelting, he knew only too well, up the hillside after them—those watchers who had seen the secret of the night, and to-morrow might give it forth to an unsuspecting world. Their lives wouldn't be worth much ifthiscrew caught them, that was certain.
Panting, he reached her side, caught hold of her elbow, and pinning it close in his fingers hurried her forward, every faculty alert, every nerve a-tremble. Her panting breath was like the breath of a spent runner; she wouldn't last far in those high heels, he knew; the going was too hard. It was only a matter of time now. The hurrying footsteps seemed to be coming nearer and nearer.
He bent his face down to hers.
"The motor-car? Where?" he said in a quick, panting voice.
She managed to stammer out a reply, stumbling feet falling over the rough ground, tripping in clumps of heather, bruising themselves against harsh stones.
"In the lane—beyond—over there! I've been a fool—leave me and go yourself!" she panted outin disjointed sentences that were ringing with despair.
"Never! We'll get there yet. Gather up your skirts.... Gad! you're done!" It was his own voice that spoke to her, and for a sudden moment he had forgotten the part he played in the exigencies of this distressing situation. He heard her gasp suddenly, send startled eyes up into his face, and then sway against him, and realized his folly—too late. The shock of the thing had unnerved her. In the darkness she could not see his face clearly but the voice had been—different. He'd brought the whole structure about his ears by one foolish momentary mistake. Then quite suddenly she fainted against him.
"Fool!" he apostrophized himself. "Blind fool!" and, stopping instantly, caught her up in his arms just as the lane hove in sight, and throwing her across his shoulder, took the added burden in his best athletic fashion, and ran.
They reached the motor only just in the nick of time, for already the darkness behind them was rent with cries of "There they are! Head them off!—there they are!" making the night hideous with the noise of them, and the stampede of feet seemed to grow more dense with every minute.
Cleek flung his unconscious burden in the car, leaped in after it, and tapped the chauffeur upon the shoulder.
"Extinguish your lamps and make for Aygon Castle—as quick as you can!" he gave out in the sharp staccato of excitement. "And the quicker the better! There's trouble here, and if those men catch up with us to-night I'll not answer for the lady's safety."
"Yessir."
Then with a whizz and a whirr the car was off, rocketing down the lane and taking the corners upon two wheels, so that Cleek had hardly a breath left in his body, and the rush of air that swept them as they sped away began to revive the unconscious form of Catherine Dowd who lay upon the seat beside him.
A drop of brandy, rather uncertainly administeredbecause of the darkness and the jolting of the car, revived her still more, and in another moment she had opened her eyes and let them dwell upon his face. In the darkness they glowed like two lamps. And her face was very frightened.
"My God! Not Ross!" she broke out uncertainly, shutting her hands together across her breast in her agitation. "Then—who are you?"
"Who knows?" he responded with a touch of gallantry. "It was your mistake in the first place, remember, not mine. A friend in need, perhaps, who has been able to save you from the consequences of a very foolish action. You know what those men were doing?"
She shook her head dumbly.
"Then you will learn to-morrow from the lips of a man whom you have learned to distrust, because he has proved more than a match for you already. That is so, isn't it? Your Mr. Deland up at the Castle. From what I heard, you have broken parole, and to do that——"
"You won't tell?—oh, surely you won't tell!" she gave out in a low, wrung voice. "How you could mimic Ross Duggan as you did is beyond me. But you stole my confidence, and I demand its return: that you tell nothing of to-night to a living soul. Will you promise me that?"
He paused a moment and looked down at her with frowning brows. Then his face cleared.
"Very well, then. That is a bargain. But I don't think you realize just how near to actual danger you ran to-night in your mad pursuit of Ross Duggan. What made you think I was he?"
"I don't know. Only I had followed him from the Castle down the lane, and then lost sight of him at the edge of the little burn which skirts that particular valley. And then I saw—you. And somehow, to my untrained eyes in the darkness, you looked like him—perhaps I was so anxious to find him that I willed myself unconsciously to think that you were he—but be that as it may, I made the profound mistake, and—now the mischief is done with a vengeance. What shall I do now? WhatshallI do?"
"Return to Aygon Castle, my dear young lady, by the route by which you left it, and leave things in Higher Hands than yours," Cleek returned gravely, as they whizzed past in the darkness, the motor thrumming a purring accompaniment to his low-pitched voice. "Never urge a criminal to flee from justice, for as surely as he remains alive justice will find him—and make him pay the penalty all the more severely for his pains! Justice must be done in a civilized country, my dear young lady; that is what we pay our taxes for—to uphold those same judges who will mete out justice in a proper, unprejudiced fashion."
"But Ross—you think he is guilty?"
"Who knows? Time alone will tell. And his innocence will be better proved if he is not urged to fly away from the outcome of his actions. I must ask you, too, a favour. Rather, I must exact a promise. Please leave Ross Duggan alone until after to-morrow."
"And then?"
"If I know aught of anything, he will be beyond the power of your assistance—and perhaps not in need of it," he replied quietly. "Here is the Castle. Slip in, now, through that wicket-gate that the tradesmen use, I believe, and get back to the house as quickly as you can. I'll give your orders to the chauffeur."
She got out unsteadily, and then stood looking up at him, her eyes glowing darkly in the frame of her pale, serious face.
"And you won't tell me who you are? Something—somehow—seems familiar about you, but I cannot place it. You won't help me?"
He shook his head.
"Better let this night's doings be buried in the Limbo of Forgotten Things, dear lady," he said, his hand resting for a moment upon her shoulder. "And if you know not who the sharer of your—er—adventure may be, surely it is better that way. Good-night and good-bye. You will keep your promise?"
She gave him a sudden inscrutable look frombeneath her dark brows. Then she flung up her head.
"Of course. Thank you for what you have done."
"That is nothing. Good-night."
"Good-night."
Like a shadow she was fleeing up the wide drive, her feet barely making any sound upon it; then, even as she disappeared from view, Cleek turned swiftly to the chauffeur who sat in the front seat of the car, goggles hiding his eyes from view, and clapped him upon the shoulder.
"Well done, Dollops, well done!" he rapped out with a soft laugh. "I thought it was you the minute my peepers rested upon your Cockney countenance, you little bundle of indefatigability! How did you do it? You caught my meaning, of course? Deuced keen of you, I must say!"
Dollops grinned, and slipped his goggles into his pocket.
"Yus," he returned, with a vigorous nod. "I caught the signal orl right. 'Listen,' you said, didn't you, Guv'nor? So I listens, and then I makes a little plan all on my lonesome. 'The Guv'-nor's up to summink,' says I ter me, 'an' I'll lay 'e wants me ter tyke a little 'and.' And so I ups and makes fer the road, and there I find the shuvver a-waitin' in this 'ere little snortin' machine."
"He was there, then, was he?"
"Large as life and twice as nat'ril. 'Now, then,me lad,' I says ter me, 'git on the right side o' 'im, an' if yer can't git on the right side, git on the wrong side, s' long as yer gits 'im out of 'is seat.' But a couple er bob to a Scotsman is as big as a legacy, sir, an' I soon puts 'im strite wiv a message from 'is missis. 'Snoop along an' send a wire ter town,' says I,Comin' later in the day, wait fer me, an' address it ter the Commander-in-Chief of the Generil Post Office, Lunnon.' An' he looks at me an' swallows the gaff like as it were plumduff. I could 'er larfed, sir—strite I could! And I gives 'im the tip ter get a drink, and before I'd finished speakin', 'e'd gorn!"
"Good lad! good lad!" Cleek's laugh was merry if low-pitched. The London address of the telegraph message tickled his sense of humour immensely. "And what did you do then?"
"Drove dahn the road a little just ter keep me 'and in, and then, when I 'eard you call out ter the lydy, and knew you wuz in danger, sir—why, I slipped in the clutch and come rocketing toward yer as farst as I could."
"Oho! And you were nearer than the lady had arranged, then?"
Dollops drew a long breath before replying; and his voice was solemn.
"That little distance of a quarter of a mile might 'ave done for yer entire—an' I weren't tykin' no risks," he replied heavily. "An' if anyfink was to'appen toyou, sir—well, it's me fer the river 'fore you kin wink an eyelash. Dollops ain't a-stayin' 'ere wiv you on the uvver side of the sky, sir, an' don't you myke no mistake abahtthat. Where you goes, I goes, too—if it's to 'eaven or 'ell. An' I'm thinkin' I knows the w'y the ayngels'll tykeyou."
"Well, they're not taking me yet, dear lad, so don't worry your ginger head about it!" returned Cleek, with a little gulp of emotion for so staunch an adherent as this wisp of Cockneydom who stood before him. "But it's friends like you and women like Miss Lorne that keep a man straight and strong and true, and don't let him turn down the wrong path instead of the right. Come, now, there's still more work to be done. Mr. Narkom will be waiting, and I told him midnight under the big gate. Slip up the driveway and see if you can see him while I go round by Rhea's gate and see how the coast lies."
Dollops disappeared forthwith, and it was but a moment or two later that he returned in company with the Superintendent looking a little round-eyed and scared until he saw Cleek standing in the shadow of the big gate, and going up to him flung an arm about his shoulders.
"You've frightened me into forty fits and out of 'em again," he cried with a little sigh of relief, "for I'd made up my mind that something had happened, and was on the way down here to see if you'd keptyour appointment, and if you hadn't—well, every man-jack of 'em at the house would have made an all-night search for you, till we'd found you, Cleek."
"And now that you have, you bundle of fussydom, you see I am still all of a piece and, as Dollops says, as large as life and twice as natural," returned Cleek with a smile. "Gad, but there's not much moon about now, is there? And it will be dark work climbing——"
"But you intend to do this mad thing, Cleek?"
"Certainly, my friend. And it's not the maddest I've done this night—by a long chalk. I'll tell you all about it later on, when there's more time and less chance of being overheard. Now, then, step softly, you two. If there's any one there, we don't want to let 'em think an army's approaching. You gave Inspector Petrie the word if we needed him? That I'd ring Rhea's bell in case of immediate help required?"
"Of course. And that one toll would mean one man, andtwotolls, three; and three tolls, as many as they could spare from the duty of guarding the house and letting no one go out or in."
"And they've already let almost every inmate of the place roam about at their leisure this night—to prove their trustworthiness!" threw in Cleek, with a short laugh. "A fine lot of disciplinarians up in this part of the world, I must say—though of course the country's difficult, and you want aboutfifty men up here to one in London. I'll have a word with the Inspector before I leave—with your permission, Mr. Narkom."
"Certainly."
"We'll get along now, Dollops. You stand here under the gate, and keep watchtowardthe Castle; Mr. Narkom, you stand here, and guard the road-end, and make the usual signal of a night owl's hoot if you see any one approaching. I'll slip on my rubber sand-shoes to grip with, and shin up in a moment."
And suiting the action to the word, that was practically what he did do—though the climb up there in the darkness was certainly more than momentary. For with no light and very little moon it was a more difficult task than Cleek had anticipated, and he had to tread carefully to avoid slipping on the narrow shelves of stone and iron that girt it about.
Up, up, up he went, like some dark fly crawling across the face of the night, and to those watching below, their hearts in their mouths at sight of his perilous progress (which at times they could not follow for the pitchy darkness, and knew not if he were safe or not), those moments seemed hours indeed.
But Cleek had been in tighter corners and more difficult places than this in the course of an adventurous lifetime, and the poise and sureness of the man were amazing. Up, and along the stone parapethe went, sliding face toward the stone wall of it, until he could lean back a little and look up at Rhea standing out against the midnight sky like a monstrous splotch of black ink in a lake of indigo-blue. The bronze bell swung beneath him. He knelt cautiously upon one knee, preparatory to whipping out his electric torch, and even as he did so, heard the sound of other footsteps stealing round from theotherside and coming toward him with the soft tread of a cat.
Instantly he stopped short—stock-still, as though made out of marble, and leaned back against the parapet while those sliding, soft, creeping, cat-like footsteps came steadily on. He became conscious of a black shape, slim as a woman's, against the midnight sky, that moved with panther-like precision across the face of the parapet. He could actually hear that other person's laboured breaths, and as the Thing steadily approached felt it fan against his cheek.
If Cleek had been in a less precarious position the soul of the man would have relieved itself by laughing outright. For the situation seemed almost funny. But this was no time for humour. The moment he stirred and made himself known, upon that moment the creature—whoever and whatever it was—would pounce upon him, and dash them both down to sure death upon the stones below, and in full sight of the Superintendent'swatching eyes. But what to do if he stayed where he was? Detection was certain in any case. There remained only a moment of moments before it actually would come. And in that moment, to be prepared for—what?
The creature came on steadily, picking its way stealthy as a cat across the rugged stone parapet upon which Rhea stood, until it stopped a few inches away from him, face averted, one tense hand clinging to the very stone to which Cleek also clung. Then slowly it turned, knelt upon one knee, reached down a long hand toward the bar from which the great bronze bell swung, made as if to find a foot-hold with one slim black foot, and—Cleek's hand shot out over that other hand, and Cleek's voice whispered in its ear:
"Damn you! what are you doing here?"
With a low-pitched exclamation of fury, the man closed with him and fought like some mad thingWith a low-pitched exclamation of fury, the man closed with him and fought like some mad thing
Instantly all was pandemonium! For the man—for man it was—sprang round quickly, showing the lower half of a white face to Cleek's watching eyes, and then with a low-pitched exclamation of fury closed with him and fought like some mad thing, spitting out furiously and clawing and scratching with his free hand to gain hold of the other.
Cleek realized the danger even as he met it, and knew what it ultimately meant. But the thing had to be done. And in the doing he had wound one foot round a stave of iron which rose up out of the parapet to form the base of Rhea's bronzethrone, and so steadied himself for the nonce. But it was a difficult task indeed to free himself from this clutching, scratching, biting Thing, and it took all his powers of resistance to combat him successfully.
"Stop it—damn you!—stop it!" he gave out furiously, in an angry whisper which at least reached Mr. Narkom's ears, and sent the night-owl's hoot creeping eerily out over the silence of that black night to tell Cleek that he would come to the rescue if necessary. And Cleek hooted back. He couldn't do this thing alone—it was too much for him. The space upon which they wrestled was a mere foot and a half in breadth, and at any moment one or both of them might pitch down into the darkness to certain death.
He peered into the man's fury-ridden face, trying to distinguish the features of it, but the upper half was covered with a black mask through which the eyes gleamed like slits of fire, and the strength of him seemed superhuman, to say the least of it. It was merely a matter of moments now—something would have to be done—when, of a sudden, the man leapt away from him, reached down an arm again, and—lithe as a cat—swung himself down upon the perilously narrow ledge of the great bronze bell. Here was Cleek's chance. In an instant his hand had shot out toward the man's leg and caught it in a vice, while with the other hesteadied himself by a firm hold of the wrought-iron stave that had saved him a moment or two before.
The creature spat out his vindictiveness in a string of Italian oaths, and Cleek, paying not the slightest attention to him, merely hung on tighter to the ankle and prayed for help. Another few moments of this strain and—the fight would be lost. His arm muscles were strained to their utmost, his whole body upon the rack. He sent forth the summons of the night-owl again and again, and was rewarded by the sound beneath him of a hasty exclamation from the Superintendent, a muttered "My Gawd!" from the hoarse throat of that little bit of Cockneydom who had served him and saved him many times before, and then the whispered words, "Comin', Guv'nor—there in a tick!" came with their ring of comfort, and he exerted himself to the last ounce to retain his hold of the biting, clutching furious Thing that lay twisting itself, save for that unfortunate leg in Cleek's grasp, upon the narrow confines of the ledge of Rhea's bell.
.... The moments seemed like hours, and Cleek had all but let go, with a strained wrist and a dislocated finger which was giving him agony, when he saw the dark shape approaching him, and knew that his rescuer had come.
"In the nick of time, lad," he breathed, as he released his hold in favour of Dollops. "God knowswho the beggar is, but he's like a wild-cat. My hand's done in completely. Hold him and, if you can, get him back again upon this ledge. The pair of us will be too much for him, I vow! Then we'll have to hold on and ring the great bell for help. It's the only way. But we must unmuffle the clapper first. Here—your torch! Gad!that'swhat the blighter's doing, is he? Unmuffling it for himself!... I say, my Dago friend, keep quiet a little, will you?—or you'll find yourself in the next world in the space of another minute. This isn't a table-top, you know. And there's about two inches between yourself and eternity. And ifyou'reready to go, I'm not!"
The creature thus addressed pulled itself up uncertainly, still muttering in Italian, and as Dollops's hold slid from ankle to knee, from knee to thigh, and then—like a flash—to arm and shoulder, in proper jiu-jitsu grip, whirled round upon them, something white showing in the clenched fingers of one hand, and ground his teeth at them, as though he would eat them alive.
"Curse you!—damn you! What are you doing here, hell-hogs!" he spat out in a low, vehement voice. "My friends will be here any minute—and then your game will be up!"
"But not before yours has beaten it by a moment or two," gave back Cleek rapidly, in a low-pitched voice. "Here!—give me that thing in your hand.I'm anxious to see what it is that muffled the bell so successfully last night. And if you don't stand still while I'm taking it, my lad here will hurl you down into perdition. Now, then—give it up.... Got him, Dollops?... Hi! there, Mr. Narkom! I want you to take hold of that rope on the right-hand side of the gateway—and pull it for all you're worth. We've got to have help to secure this thing in man's guise we've fallen foul of, and got to have it quick!"
And so it came about that the silence of that still night was broken of a sudden by deep-throated pealing as Rhea's great bronze bell gave tongue. Once—twice—three times, until those above it were well-nigh deafened with the sound, and those below and beyond it knew, by that prearranged signal, that they were wanted—and wanted at once.
Instantly the night became hideous with shouting voices and running steps. The door-keeper hurried out of his cottage with lantern lit, and made his way toward them; constables appeared from every corner of the grounds; meanwhile, Cleek, with the crackling paperish thing that had muffled the bell in his hand, and the other lending what support to Dollops he could give in holding the man down, called out their requirements in the sharp staccato of excitement.
"A net, boys—quick! or a great-coat—anything!Only spit out your torches and hold it firm-stretched, and we're going to throw something down to you which will want a lot of holding, for it's as slippery as an eel," he gave out sharply. "Now, then—are you ready? Mr. Narkom, see that the lights are strong enough; I don't want him 'missing fire' and landing with a broken neck until we've done with him. Ready, Dollops? One—two—three——"
Came a scratching and a fighting and a furious sound of rending material as the man wriggled to be free of those three detaining hands that held him. Then of a sudden a startled gasp, a muttered oath, and—a flying black shape came hurtling down in the darkness to that little circle of light where the upturned, expectant faces of the constables showed in Rembrandt-like light and shadow, and—the shape landed in the folds of the outstretched great-coat with athwack, and was muffled up in it in a moment, kicking and clawing and scratching furiously as the thick folds went over his head.
Ten men removed him from it eventually and set him upon his feet, just as Dollops, slithering and sliding down from the dangerous height, with his heart in his mouth for his master's safety with that injured hand of his, landed with aplompupon the soft ground, and gave Cleek the hand that had helped him all the way down that perilous journey, until he, too, was in safety at last.
"Gawd's troof, Guv'nor!" he ejaculated, as he whipped out his handkerchief and bound it tightly and professionally over the finger and down on to the strained wrist. "You're 'urt proper, ain't you? That was a narrer squeak, I don't fink!... That's better, ain't it? I weren't a-goin' ter let yer git orf without that bit of bandages to 'elp the pain, not if we loses the blinkin' murderer 'isself! Let's 'ave a look at the chap, sir."
Cleek's good hand swung up across the boy's shoulder.
"Thank you," he said simply. "Hello! here's Mr. Narkom. Yes, let's have a look at the blighter, men, before you carry him off to the lock-up. I'm interested to know what he looks like beneath that mask of his. Just to get a line on his features, you know."
Speaking, he went up to the group of constables and, flashing out his torch, sent its spotlight upon the man's scowling face.
And it was just as he did this that Dollops let out a yell of amazement, and stared at him—mouth open, eyes wide.
"Gawblimey! and pink sossidges!" he exclaimed, whirling round upon Cleek in astonishment, "if this 'ere ain't the giddy limit! Why, that's ole Dirty Dick the Dago 'isself!"
"And this," said Cleek, as he glanced down at the crumpled bit of parchment which he still held,and smiled into Mr. Narkom's serious face, "is the missing will, or I'm a Dutchman! Quite a little bit of excitement for one night's entertainment, I must say! Who says anything about killing two birds with one stone? Men, I'm coming along with you to the lock-up. It's a bit late in the evening, or early in the morning, to be more literal, but I'm going to have a conversation with your prisoner which is going to elucidate many things for me. Mr. Narkom, I should advise you to go back to bed and take a rest. To-morrow is likely to be a heavy day."
Then, smiling, but still a trifle pale, Cleek swung into step with Dollops behind the little cavalcade which was wending its way slowly through the great gateway and out upon the road beyond—toward the goal of many imaginings and the proper elucidation of the riddle at last.
Cleek spent an hour in the "lock-up" with the man they had captured, and had what he scathingly called a proper heart-to-heart talk with him, coming away with the contemptuous feeling in his heart which all clean men must find there upon discovering a fellow creature who, to save his own skin if possible, is willing to split upon a pal.
He wended his way toward the Inn of the Three Fishers, with Dollops beside him, head downward, every faculty concentrated upon the proper unravelling of the riddle that confronted him. If two and two made four, then he had the answer pretty well elucidated at last. One had to fill in the gaps with a bit of imagination, but—he patted the pocket where the missing will lay, lying close against that packet of love-letters that he had found in Sir Andrews's' desk. Funny how papers so often proved things where human flesh-and-blood failed. Clues—both of 'em. Strong clues. And likely to give surprise to one or two people he knew of. Lady Paula, for instance—and Ross Duggan.
"Dollops," he said quietly, as he let himself into the little hostelry with his latchkey, just as the dawn was striking the sky with rosy fingers and rending aside the dark curtains of night, "this is going to be a heavy day for us. I don't relish the task in front of me, and yet.... It's no use funking the issue. Justice must be done—and if it's going to hurt some people pretty badly, it isn't my fault, is it?"
"It is not, sir," gave back Dollops emphatically. "But you come on up to yer room and let me attend to that there 'and. 'Urtin' pretty nasty, ain't it? I thought so. A bit er cold water'll 'elp some, an' I'm a dab 'and at the First Aid stunt since I took them lessons in Lunnon larst winter. We'll put yer right in a jiffy. But I carn't 'elp wishin' it wasmypaw, all the same. Miss Lorne'll be that worried when she 'ears.
"Then the best thing to do is not to tell her, you little Worry-Box," returned Cleek with a laugh. "It's luck it's my left one, so the writing won't be affected. A week or two will see it right. I wish I could cure all the heartbreak and unhappiness in this old Castle-keep as effectively in such a short time.... Thanks very much. That'll do nicely, I think. And it's a good deal easier. Now, be off to bed, boy, and try to make up for the loss of that beauty-sleep which you've missed. To-morrow, or rather, to-day, is going to keep us all fairly busy, I imagine. I shall want you to come up to the Castlewith me in the morning, you know—and I mustn't be later than ten o'clock."
And so it came about that in the morning Cleek, looking rather pale, with one hand in a roughly contrived sling, and with Dollops in close alliance with him, and Mr. Narkom bringing up the rear, made his way to the great door of Aygon Castle, rang the bell coolly, and nodded pleasantly to the door-keeper who admitted him as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the night that had just passed. As he passed through the gates with his companions and heard them clang to behind him, he laid a hand upon the gate-keeper's arm and spoke in a low voice.
"Heard nothing at all after we left, Burns? Saw no one, I suppose, this morning?"
"Not a soul, sair. Aiverybody seems to have overslept themsailves and never a word has even come to me over the telephone in my lodge."
"Good! Excellent! Well, keep your mouth tight-closed and know nothing if you are questioned. Not even to the master of the Castle himself. Tonobody. Simply nothing untoward happened at all last night that you know of. Follow me?"
"Absolutely, sair."
"Very well, then. Come, Mr. Narkom, we'll make our way up to the Castle now. Fine place, isn't it? Wonderful bit of stone-work in that balustraderound the tessellated tower. Never noticed it so plainly before. Perhaps it's the fine day."
Speaking, he led the way up the drive, followed by a wide-eyed Dollops and a panting Superintendent who had not long finished his breakfast of bacon and eggs, and had missed his usual ten minutes' perusal of the newspaper after it.
Jarvis opened the door to them, bowing low over Cleek's cap as the latter proffered it, and giving Dollops a friendly wink behind his master's back as he led them into the little ante-room and went to summon his mistress.
As they sat waiting, Cleek saw Tavish, clad in riding-boots and trousers, and making a fine figure of a man, swing past the half-open door. Cleek nodded to him as he glanced in.
"Good morning. I say—come in a moment, won't you? I've got a perfectly astonishing piece of news!"
Then, as Tavish, with a nod and a smile, came into the tiny room, seeming, in his enormous stature, to fill up every nook and corner of it, and shook Cleek firmly by the hand, that gentleman leaned a little forward and whispered something in his ear.
Mr. Narkom saw the flare of eye and the slackening of jaw which betoken amazement as Tavish opened his mouth to speak. But Cleek held up a silencing hand.
"Hush! I don't want the thing made public yet, y' know, my dear chap. Only I thought perhaps you'd like to have a look in and see the final round-up of the villains. Take a back seat, you know. There's no harm in that. And I've the most amazing bit of evidence by me which I've traced it all to. Stolen will among other things. Bring it home toheras smart as you please. Ought to be worth watching when you see her face."
"Gad!—yes." Tavish struck one hand into the open palm of the other, and his nice face went grim. "The woman's a devil from the first letter to the last. And if you knew the things she's done to my future wife—Johanna McCall—well, it fair makes a man's blood boil. I'd tighten the noose roundherneck, I can promise you, and with my own hands, too. The earth is well rid ofherkind."
"In which I profoundly agree. And—hello! here's Miss Duggan. At half-past ten, then. I'll make arrangements for you to slip in unnoticed. It's going to be as sensational as a first-rate London melodrama. And—not a word, old chap?"
"Not one of 'em."
"Thanks very much. I'll rely on you, then. And we might even want you to lend a hand. What's that, Miss Duggan? Lend a hand for what? Oh, simply in capturing a somewhat wild mare that has got loose in this part of the country and has been kicking up a pretty shindy all over the place.Mr. Tavish's strength and knowledge of horse-flesh ought to be a real help, eh, my friend?"
Here he winked broadly at the vanishing Tavish, and brought up a chair for Maud Duggan after she had greeted Mr. Narkom and given Dollops a little forlorn smile as Cleek introduced him to her notice.
"And have you followed up any of the clues which you discovered yesterday, Mr. Deland, to the utter desolation of all my hopes and fears?" she asked him wearily, sitting down with her hands lying loosely in her lap, a very picture of despondent womanhood.
He bowed his head.
"I'm afraid I have. Several of them. And yet—I don't know. Anyhow, I want you all to come along to the library again this morning—and for the last time. After to-day you ought not to be put to any further worry and inconvenience, my dear young lady. But what I wantyouto do is to assemble all the members of the immediate household together for me, and tell them I've discovered a perfectly new clue altogether—and from a perfectly new person—someone who, so far as you or I know, has never even entered the house at all, at any time. So you see, that's not such bad news, is it?"
At these words her head came up upon the slim column of her neck, and she looked into his face with suddenly bright eyes.
"You mean to say that—you mean to say that you can prove that neither Ross nor—Captain Macdonald is guilty of that terrible crime?" she gave out in a shrill voice, shutting her hands together in her emotion, and breathing hard. "Oh, Mr. Deland, if you have only found outthat——"
"Not quite so fast, please," he responded a trifle sternly. "I'm afraid I can't give you any of the facts yet. Only I want you to know that—in one direction, at any rate—you may have some cause to hope. That is, of course, if my deductions are correct. It all depends. Even a policeman can make a mistake—isn't that so, Mr. Narkom?—and find himself led away upon a false scent. It depends a lot upon the wiliness of the fox he's in pursuit of. And in this case, when there's a—animal's a female, one has the disadvantage of the woman's intuitive faculties and natural gifts of deceit. 'The female of the species'—you know what Kipling said, of course? That sounds rude, doesn't it? But it's amazingly true, all the same—yourself, I'm sure, always excepted."
She made no answer to the little sally other than to pass a pale hand across a paler forehead, and pat a piece of dark hair into place, with that little gesture of forlornness which went straight to Cleek's heart.
"Then you have nothing more to tell me, Mr. Deland? Nothing for me to build my hopes onsave that a new element has entered the case——"
"Together with an old element—yes," responded Cleek softly, with a stab at his heart for her pathetic appearance. "Just that. No more. I can tell nothing until I have you all there before me, and then—well, perhaps I shall be able to unravel the mystery for you, and put an end to your sufferings inthatdirection, at any rate. Would you be good enough, as you're passing, to ask the constable on duty outside the library door to come to me a moment? Mr. Narkom and I want to question him about one or two things. There's another oneinsidethe room, so there's no chance of any one getting in and falsifying clues while he's away. Thanks very much."
She passed out, pale-faced, utterly forlorn, and the sagging droop of her shoulders sent another stab of pity through Cleek's heart, while Mr. Narkom—tender-hearted as a chicken, as he himself often put it—blew his nose loudly and passed the handkerchief surreptitiously across his eyes, and turned a sad face to his famous ally's.
"Poor girl, Cl—Deland, poor, poor, unhappy girl! It goes to my heart to see any woman so desolate as that. And a good-looking woman, too! She feels the whole wretched affair keenly. And if you'd only explained to me some of those wonderful theories of yours and given me some inkling of what you're going to say to 'em, I might have beena bit of help to her, you know. Human sympathy's a comforting thing——"
"But not always so comforting when it emanates from the police, who will probably wring her heart dry," returned Cleek with a twisted smile. "No, no, my friend. Bless your tender heart for the kind thought, but in this case it's up to me to tread warily. And the least suspicious glance cast at a guilty party, the least flutter of eyelid or brow in expression of one's knowledge—and the cat would be out of the bag, and all our trouble taken for nothing. I'm going to play 'possum to-day and lay low. And you've just got to forgive me beforehand and put up with it. I've no doubt your own theories coincide with mine but—— Here's P. C. Mackay. Good morning, Constable. Mr. Narkom and I just wanted to have a few words with you, with reference to what arrangements you made for me last night. You followed out my instructions?"
P. C. Mackay, who was a slight, wiry, light-rooted chap, and so chosen by Cleek for the very work he had been given to do, nodded his head, and his hand came to the salute.
"I did that, sir."
"Good. No names mentioned, Constable ... but you found some clues there, I take it?"
"Yessir.This." He looked from side to side of the room, as though uncertain how to produce the clue in case of discovery. But the door was shut,and only they four were within the confines of the small place. Then he put his hand into his breast-pocket and drew forth a little bit of crimson-covered flexible electric wire.
Cleek's face fell a little.
"That all?"
"Yessir—except for a photograph of a young wummun. It was hidden in a carved wood box on the dressin' table. I brought it along in case you might find some use for it. Here it is."
Speaking, he drew the bit of pasteboard from his pocket and handed it across to Cleek, who bent his eyes upon it, gave a little start at something which was written across it in bold capitals and underscored three times, gazed a moment at the pictured face, and then promptly opened his pocketbook and placed it within.
"Very good, Constable. Mr. Narkom, you will do me a personal favour if you arrange for P. C. Mackay's promotion. He did good work last night, and it must not be forgotten. You may go, Constable."
"Thank you, sir."
The man saluted smartly, grinned all over his ruddy Scotch face at the word "promotion," and went back to his position outside the library door, his head in the clouds and his heart longing for the time when he could impart this wonderful knowledge to his Maggie, and see her blue eyes brighten.
Meanwhile Cleek, the door shut once more, dived down into his pocket and produced the little bit of red electric wire which he had picked up in the library that first day before the tragedy had taken place, when Maud Duggan was showing him over the house. He fingered it idly, and then showed Mr. Narkom the two pieces spread upon his open palm.
"Not much in that, I'm afraid. Just the ordinary kind of wire which everyone uses, and with nothing to show any peculiarities," he said, speaking half to himself and half to the Superintendent. "Both cut with a sharp knife, obviously. Now, if they mated evenly—and gad! theydomate!" He brought them together and dovetailed the two frayed ends one against the other until the edges met in a perfectly even line. "That's a funny thing! A deuced funny thing! But they belong to each other as much as two twin souls belong. They're one and the same piece. Gad! and with the photograph of the estimable young woman—it proves it without a doubt!"
"Proves what, my dear chap?"
Mr. Narkom's voice was a trifle testy. The whole affair of that morning had got upon his nerves. In the first place, he had had to get up too early after a broken night, and in the second, Cleek hadn't given him time to digest his meal, and then the whole higgledy-piggledy of Cleek's words, fromwhich he could make neither head nor tail, served to irritate him still further.
Cleek laid a hand upon the Superintendent's arm, and spoke in his most coaxing voice.
"Have patience with me, dear friend, as you have done before, and as you will have to do again," he said softly. "It isn't that I don't trust you—haven't I trusted you with life itself before now, and never found you wanting?—but it is that at present my theories are in somewhat of a muddle, and it's only keeping my own counsel that's going to help me to disentangle them."
"I know, I know, old chap," returned the Superintendent, casting aside his rancour at this apology from the man who was his best friend, with his usual heartiness. "I'm a slow-thinking old beggar, and somehow your lightning sketches get the better of my patience. But I'll back you to unravel the knot every time. Think you've come to the end, then?"
"I fancy so. With a little bit of bold guesswork thrown in to make equal measure. That must always be reckoned in the bargain, you know. But if I haven't found the person or persons who have murdered Sir Andrew in that cold-blooded and diabolically clever manner, then my name's not—Arthur Deland. And I know as much about the methods of sleuth-hounds as my old boot!"
So saying, he fell to examining the photographagain, and tossing the two pieces of flexible wire up and down in the palm of one hand, and muttering to himself like a lunatic, while Dollops and Mr. Narkom, in silence, could do nothing more but wonder and look on.