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During a few short weeks, four personsresiding in adjoining towns and villages upon the coast ofSuffolk had mysteriously disappeared from their homes, leaving notraces behind them. The local authorities were disinclined tomove in the matter, but Scotland Yard was doubtful if all thesedisappearances could be merely coincidences, and despatchedGilbert Larose to determine if the country-side were not chokingunder the grip of an unknown and bloody assassin.

CHAPTER I. BIRDS OF PREY
CHAPTER II. THE LORD OF THRALLDOM
CHAPTER III. THE TASK OF LAROSE
CHAPTER IV. THE SECRET OF THE MARSH
CHAPTER V. THE HALESWORTH BUTCHER
CHAPTER VI. THE TRAIL OF BLOOD
CHAPTER VII. LAROSE AT THRALLDOM CASTLE
CHAPTER VIII. THE SECRET DOOR
CHAPTER IX. THE MYSTERY OF THE MOAT
CHAPTER X. THE MORNING AFTER
CHAPTER XI. THE VAULTS OF THRALLDOM CASTLE
CHAPTER XII. THE SUSPICIONS OF WILLIAM
CHAPTER XIII. AT NIGHT IN THE CHAPEL
CHAPTER XIV. THE DREADFUL VIGIL
CHAPTER XV. THE RAID UPON THE CASTLE
CHAPTER XVI. THE MAJESTY OF DEATH
CHAPTER XVII. THE MASTER MINDS
CHAPTER XVIII. LAROSE PREPARES TO STRIKE
CHAPTER XIX. THE TOLLING OF THE BELL

CHAPTER I. — BIRDS OF PREY

GRIM and grey was Thralldom Castle. Eighthundred years and more its mighty walls had reared their heightsto Heaven, scorched by the suns, buffeted by the tempests andfretted by the lashing rains.

Old, old was its story and many were the dark and sinistersecrets that it held. Its dungeons had echoed to the groans ofthe dying and its vaults had witnessed many a hurried burial ofthe dead. All down the ages the tides of battle had beaten roundit, cruel and devouring as the storm driven tides of the sea. Itsgreat stones had been hewn and fashioned in the days of thelance, the battleaxe, and the arrow, and the turmoil and din ofbattle had been its cradle song and the anthem of its lateryears.

Generation upon generation of the fierce lords of Thralldomhad been born there, and always the lust of strife and conflicthad flowed strongly in their veins. Often, in the heyday ofMerrie England they had fought for their kings, and often, again,they had fought against them, but always, the shadow of theirmight had loomed dark and chilling upon the country-side.

And now the last of the Thralldoms lived there, Roger, 27thlord of Thralldom, a frail, worn, and childless old man.

THE well-dressed man spoke irritably, and with a frown upon his handsome, but rather dissipated-looking face.

"The telephone wires are all laid underground, there areburglar alarms to every door and window, and there is a bell inthe belfry of the east tower that can be heard five miles away.There are four men-servants and at night they are all armed. Thegreat door of the castle is locked and barred at ten and openedfor no one after then. There is a strong steel grille cutting offthe hall and, at the entrance to the picture gallery there is aneven stronger one." He nodded emphatically. "I tell you the wholeplace is guarded like a prison and"—he flicked the ashesfrom his cigarette—"there are paintings there worth ahundred thousand pounds."

Four men were seated in a long oak-panelled room of an oldhouse that stood close beside the sea-shore upon a lonely stretchof the Suffolk coast. It was late afternoon, the light was waningand the moan of the sea mingled with their low voices. From thewindows, it could be seen that the sky was overcast with heavyclouds. A storm was working up from over the sea.

"And you can suggest then no way at all in which we can getin, Captain?" asked a tall, shrewd-looking man, with a smallVandyke beard, speaking with a slight American twang. He addedsharply: "Surely, after all this time and with all theopportunities you have had, you must have formed some ideas."

"No satisfactory ones, Hudson," was the reply. "The placeseems absolutely fool-proof to me."

"But with you staying right in the castle," went on theAmerican, obviously in some annoyance, "could you not arrange forsome door or window to be left unsecured one night?"

"Impossible," replied Captain Bonnett, "for directly it isdark, two of the men go round and bolt and lock every door andset the alarms, and as often as not, Lord Thralldom goes withthem to see that it is properly done. He's a tottering old man,but he's fierce, and rules the castle with a rod of iron. As forthe windows, they are barred outside with thick steel bars, andif you lift any of the sashes at night, the alarm rings instantlyin the hall." He shook his head frowningly. "Besides, the onlyway in which you can approach the castle at all is through thebig spiked doors on the drawbridge and they are locked at ten andan alarm switched on that would wake the dead."

"But we could avoid the drawbridge altogether," said Hudson,"by getting over across the moat."

"Ten feet deep," commented the captain dryly, "and a barbedwire fence on both banks." He shook his head again. "No, oldThralldom has thought of everything and we have a hard nut tocrack."

"But I am certain, Captain Bonnett," said a third man with ahigh forehead, and the long and oval face of an artist, "thatthis secret passage under the moat exists. As I have told you, itis referred to most definitely three times in those 'Chroniclesof East Anglia,' and the writer, from his perfectly confidenttone, evidently knew what he was writing about."

The captain sighed. "But what good is that to us, Fenner," hereplied, "if we don't know where the passage is?" He raised hisvoice a little. "But, mind you, I agree that the passage existsand I am certain Thralldom knows about it, too, for I brought upthe matter casually at dinner last night, and he denied allknowledge of it in a way that made me suspicious at once. Heseemed most annoyed that I had mentioned it, and pressed me as towhere I had got the idea. But I just told him all old castleswere supposed to have secret passages and tried to pass it off atthat. Still, he was annoyed, as I say, and showed his annoyanceplainly."

"Of course he'd know all about it," exclaimed Hudson testily."It's not likely that a man whose ancestors have been atThralldom Castle for all these hundreds of years would not knoweverything about his own place." He snapped his fingersdisdainfully. "But he's not going to shout about it to all theworld, especially now he's got that Rubens there."

"Well, anyhow we ought to be making more efforts than we areto find it," said Fenner warmly, "for its discovery would solveour greatest difficulty at once." He raised one long slimforefinger solemnly. "Remember, the information I have obtainedabout it is exclusive, for it must have been more than 300 yearssince anyone had touched that manuscript until I chanced upon itamong the archives in the Cathedral Library at Norwich. As I havetold you, it was dated 1586, and the writing was so faded that Icould hardly read it." He looked round challengingly at theothers. "I risked my whole career in taking it, and I say weought to concentrate upon finding the opening to thatpassage."

The captain shook his head. "But it is not practical, Fenner,for if you went searching anywhere in the castle grounds you'd beseen and it would be reported to Lord Thralldom at once."

"But I've been searching at night," replied Fenner quickly,"and these last three nights I have located several likely spotsand one particularly—the ruins of the Priory, for it wasbuilt about the same time as the castle and, although it is atleast 300 yards away, still, the lie of the land would favour apassage there. I can only search, however, when there's a moon,for its dangerous crossing over the marshes in the dark."

Silas Hudson looked contemptuous. "Well, I don't think much ofyour secret passage and I never did." He turned sharply to thecaptain. "Have you made any attempt to look for it inside thecastle?"

The captain seemed greatly amused. "Made any attempt!" helaughed. "Why,—although I've been his guest there fornearly three weeks now, and although he has known me since I wasa boy and my father before me for nearly all his life—hewould trust me little more than he would a perfect stranger andthe walled-up part of the castle is barred to me, as to everyoneelse." His voice hardened in emphasis. "I tell you, now he'sbought that Rubens, the safety of his paintings has become anobsession with him, a perfect mania, and since his friend, theEarl of Blair, lost those two Hogarths, night and day he isterrified that Thralldom Castle is going to be raided. He iscrazed about it, and I hear him asking the servants a dozen timesa day if they have noticed any suspicious strangers about." Heshrugged his shoulders. "As to exploring any of the undergroundparts on my own—why, he's had a big iron door fitted at thetop of the stairs leading to the dungeons and it's always keptlocked."

A fourth man spoke gruffly. "Well, if a door can be locked, itcan be unlocked, and I'd like to see the one that would troubleme for long."

The last speaker was quite different in appearance from any ofthe three men who had already spoken. He was obviously of thesuperior artisan class and dark and swarthy of complexion, andshort and thick in stature, there was nothing attractive abouthim. His expression was a quarrelsome one, and he was nowregarding his companions from scowling eyes under big and bushyeyebrows.

"All right, Kelly," said the captain in a careless, offhandedway, "we don't doubt that, of course, and if we could only putyou alongside any door, I am sure that part of the business wouldbe easy." He turned back to the others. "But I admit I'm quite ata dead-end now, and unless chance comes to our aid, I have littlehope of our getting at any of those paintings." He addedimpatiently. "I've been there nearly three weeks already, and Ican't stretch out the copying of that Turner for ever. If Ihadn't been pretty competent with my brush, he'd have beensuspicious of me long before now, but I'm really surprised at thecolours I've managed to put in."

"Those burglar alarms could be knocked out of action, quickand lively," said Kelly, "and once in the castle, I'd soon makeshort work of them." He regarded the captain resentfully. "Surelythey must go to sleep there sometime. They can't be keeping awakeall night."

"That's true enough, Kelly," replied the captain, "but how toget you all into the castle when they are taking that sleep, andarrange for you to work undisturbed, is the difficulty."

"You may think the castle fool-proof," went on Kellybrusquely, "but if I could get a squint inside, I reckon I couldsoon find a weak place somewhere."

"Yes, that's it," exclaimed Hudson, quickly, "and that's beenour mistake. Kelly's the practical man when it comes to breakingin anywhere, and he ought to have been given a chance to lookround."

"Quite so, Hudson," commented the captain dryly, "and it's sosimple that I only wonder we did not think of it before." Hesmiled sarcastically. "We might drop his lordship aline—'Mr. Kelly presents his compliments and would like tolook over the castle, with a view to effecting a forcible entrylater on. If his lordship has no objection, Mr. Kelly will leavehis bag of tools, ready to hand, just outside the premises.'"

"You're funny," snarled Kelly, "but it's not funny business wewant, and as for those armed men-servants, I'm not worrying aboutthem. I met one of the footmen in the bar of the Westleton publast week, and, although he's a big lout of a chap, therewouldn't be much fight in him, besides"—and he looked moreunattractive than ever—"two could play at that game,couldn't they?"

"But no violence, Kelly," exclaimed the American quickly. "Iwould never countenance that. We want a peaceful acquisition ofthose paintings, and we must come and go in complete secrecy. Noone must see or hear us, and we must leave no trails behind."

"That's all very well," growled Kelly, "but how are we goingto do it?" He laughed coarsely. "As for violence—you werepretty ready with your knuckle-duster, weren't you, thatafternoon in the Jew's shop in Houndsditch? I rememberyou——"

"That'll do," interrupted Hudson hastily. "Our hands wereforced then, and we had to make a quick getaway at any cost." Heshook his head and looked very stern. "But Thralldom is notHoundsditch, Kelly, and those methods won't do here."

Kelly scoffed contemptuously and then directed his black looksagain upon the captain. "And you told us it was going to be aneasy job directly you got into the castle," he said sourly, "andthe boss put up the money and rigged you up to go visiting yourflash friends, and now after all these weeks,"—hesneered—"you come here and tell us the time's been wastedand there's nothing doing."

The captain reddened angrily. "Well, you don't want to be tolda pack of lies do you? I'm doing my part and shirking nothing."He thumped his fist upon the table. "I'm up to the neck in thisas deep as any of you, and if the thing's going to be done atall, I'll see it's going to be done properly, and we'll attemptnothing unless there's a reasonable chance of success." Hedropped his voice suddenly to a cold contemptuous tone. "Youcan't barge into Thralldom Castle, Mr. Kelly, like a bullcrashing through a gate. It needs thought and preparation and acertain amount of intelligence as well." He spoke most politely."So we'll decide what is best to be done, Mr. Kelly, and thenwhen the purely mechanical part is required"—hebowed—"your services will be most handy, I am sure."

Kelly looked as black as thunder and was obviously about tomake some furious retort when the American broke in quickly.

"All right, all right," he said, "we'll take it you are doingyour best, but all the same, it's annoying with expenses mountingup every day and nothing to show for them." He turned the subjectabruptly. "Why didn't Lord Thralldom answer Fenner's letter?"

"He never will let people in to view his paintings," repliedCaptain Bonnett, "and it's his craze now to keep everyone awayfrom the castle."

"But Fenner wrote he was the curator of the Norwich ArtGallery," went on Hudson, "and that should have been a passportanywhere." He pursed up his lips as if he were very puzzled."Fenner wrote a most courteous letter."

"Too courteous," laughed the captain, "and so he just threw itin the waste-paper basket in consequence." He nodded his head."Now, if Fenner had written and called him a selfish old fool forkeeping his paintings to himself, he'd have probably taken somenotice of the letter and sent an angry reply. He's a fiery oldfellow, his lordship."

The American whistled. "Oh! he's like that, is he? Well, I'llwrite and call him one," he exclaimed. "I'll string him on intostarting a correspondence and then perhaps I may get a look intothe castle that way." His voice rose excitedly. "Yes, I know whatI'll do. I'll write and tell him that his precious Rubens is notgenuine. I'll write and say it's only an early Van Dyck." Herubbed his hands together. "That'll rattle him. He's sure to haveheard of me as a dealer of some standing, and if I give that asmy considered opinion, he's bound to take notice." He beamedround at the others. "I know these crazy collectors, and if youcan only manage them properly, you can draw them every time. Whatdo you say. Captain?"

The captain looked thoughtful. "Not at all a bad idea," hesaid after a moment. "You write like that and when he gets yourletter I'll boost you up and say you're the biggest noise in thepicture world over in New York. I'll tell him——" Hestopped suddenly and eyed the American intently. "But if he'sheard of you, he may have heard some queer things, Hudson. You'vebeen in the newspapers a few times, remember, and although noone's been successful in their actions against you, stillthere've been some nasty remarks published about you."

"And I could have sued those who made them, if I'd wanted to,"replied Hudson quickly, "but it wasn't worth my while."

"But where do I come in?" asked Kelly, frowningly, of theAmerican. "Your getting into the castle will be no more good tous than the captain, here."

"Oh! won't it?" exclaimed Hudson gleefully. "You just see. Ifold Thralldom says I can inspect his Rubens, then I'll take youin with me as my servant as a matter of course. I'll make out I'mcrippled with rheumatism and can't walk without your help." Heturned to the captain. "What do you say to that, Bonnett?"

Captain Bonnett nodded. "If you can screw Thralldom up to thepoint of agreeing to let you into his gallery, I don't supposehe'd mind Kelly coming too." He laughed spitefully. "But Kelly'llhave to cultivate a slightly more agreeable look, or the wholebusiness may fall through directly he sees him."

Kelly made no comment and contented himself with regarding thespeaker contemptuously.

The captain went on. "And another thing strikes me. If ever weare successful at getting at those paintings, we shall have to bedevilish careful afterwards." He spoke impressively. "None of youhere can bolt away at once."

"We never intended doing so," replied Hudson smiling. "Weshall just hide the canvases and remain on here as simpleholiday-makers until things have blown over."

He laughed. "We've thought of somewhere to hide them, where noone would look in a thousand years."

"Well, that's all right," said the captain, "because apartfrom Fenner being a known authority in the Art world and you adealer in pictures,"—he grinned—"friend Kelly's got asort of reputation as being an artist in his profession, too, andthe police would be interested in him at once."

"There's never been any conviction recorded against me,"exclaimed Kelly quickly; "the police have nothing on me."

"That may be," commented the captain dryly, "but don't youforget, Kelly, you've been up for trial, and the old judge saidthen you were devilishly lucky to have been given the benefit ofthe doubt, also——"

"Well, well," interrupted the American, anxious to prevent anyquarrelling, "there's no need to go into that. We've got plentyof other things to think about, and we must find a way of gettingthat Rubens. After all this trouble we're not going to be beatenby a dodderry old man."

"Oh! but he's not dodderry," said Captain Bonnett quickly,"and don't you go imagining it for a moment. The old boy'sseventy-live, and weak and shaky in his legs, but in his mindhe's as keen and alert as he ever was and, except in the matterof his paintings, he's a shrewd and capable old man."

"Well, I'll write that letter to him anyhow," commentedHudson, "and pitch it in hot and strong and we'll see what'llhappen then." He stretched out his hand. "Now, pass over thatplan you've made and it'll be hard luck if it doesn't come inuseful some time."

CHAPTER II. — THE LORD OF THRALLDOM

IT was breakfast time at Thralldom Castle andfour persons were seated at one end of a long table, in a verylarge room that at one time had formed part of the old banquetinghall.

The room was replete with every comfort and furnished in amodern fashion with a rich, thick carpet covering the hugefloor.

The meal was proceeding with its usual ceremony, and three menservants were in attendance, a butler and two footmen, with thelatter attired in the Thralldom livery of gold and green.

The owner of the castle was seated at the head of the table,and notwithstanding his general appearance of weakness and ill-health, his sunken cheeks and pallor of complexion, he lookedevery inch a great lord of Thralldom.

Tall and gaunt and of tremendous frame, it was evident that atone time he had been of great strength, and if now his body wereyielding to the infirmities of age, there were yet all signs thatthe spirit in him was still unquenched.

His whole mien was one of authority. He held his head in thecommanding poise of a man who was accustomed to be obeyed. Thelines of his face were set and stern, and his big, fierce eyesglared out of their bony sockets with the same fire with whichhis ancestors had glared over the battlefields of Agincourt andCrecy.

That he was not in a particularly good humour that morning wasevidenced by the silence of the others participating in themeal.

Lady Deering, his niece by marriage, made no attempt to startany conversation; her step-daughter, Ann Devenham, was pensiveand thoughtful and his guest Marmaduke Bonnett, looked bored andas if he would be glad when the meal were over.

Presently Lord Thralldom spoke, and his voice was deep andvibrant and very different from what might have been expectedfrom his frail appearance.

"And are you sure, Bevan," he asked frowningly of the butler,"that Rawlings had not arrived before I sat down?"

"But I ordered him to be here at a quarter to nine," went onLord Thralldom, looking round impressively at the others, "andit's a nice thing when my bailiff does not condescend to obey myorders."

"But he's generally most punctual, Uncle," remarked LadyDeering, meekly, "and I never remember him being unpunctualbefore." She was a pretty but rather faded-looking woman in themiddle forties and evidently stood in great awe of her lordlyrelation.

"Well, he's not punctual this morning," boomed Lord Thralldom,"and I shall have something to say about it when he arrives." Hisvoice hardened. "Ring up at once, Bevan, and ascertain why he'slate." He turned to his grand-niece and eyed her sternly. "Youlook tired this morning, Ann. Didn't you sleep well, lastnight?"

Ann Devenham had just turned twenty-one, and a charminglypretty girl, she showed all signs of her aristocratic ancestry.She was slightly built but of a beautifully proportioned figure.Her features were finely chiselled and she had large, very dark,blue eyes. Ordinarily of a bright disposition, just now shelooked quiet and rather sad.

"But you look tired," went on Lord Thralldom. "I expect youhad too many late nights last week at Saxmundham."

"But I didn't," replied the girl quickly. "The vicar wouldonly allow me to go out twice." She smiled. "He said he hadstrict orders from you."

Lord Thralldom eyed her solemnly. "But your sleep was brokenlast night," he said. "You heard noises and were disturbed by thehooting of the owls."

"No, I was not," replied the girl. "I heard no noises at alland slept quite well, I tell you."

Lord Thralldom turned to one of the footmen. "You heardnoises, you say, William? You heard the hooting of an owl?"

The footman addressed inclined his head in assent. "Severaltimes, my lord," he replied. "It kept me awake."

Lord Thralldom frowned uneasily. "I don't like it," heremarked. "It was very disquieting. I heard it many times."

"But what's wrong in that, sir?" asked Captain Bonnett,looking very puzzled. "There are plenty of owls about here, andnight is their time to hoot."

Lord Thralldom shook his head ominously. "But it wasn't an owlthat hooted. It was a man."

Captain Bonnett put down the cup he was in the act of raisingto his lips. "Good gracious!" he exclaimed, "but what was hehooting for?"

"That's what we want to know," replied his lordship sternly."It was a signal of some sort. The castle is being watched." Heturned to the footman whom he had addressed before. "It didn'tsound like an owl, did it, William?"

"It was someone trying to imitate an owl, wasn't it?" went onLord Thralldom, and when William had at once acquiesced, heturned to the other footman. "And you heard it, too, didn't you,James?"

His lordship looked satisfied. "Well, you always have yourautomatics ready, both of you?" he asked.

"Then don't hesitate to use them," said his lordship. "Shootat once if you see any movement below the castle, at night."

"Oh Uncle! But it would be so very dreadful if anyone werekilled," exclaimed Ann Devenham quickly. "It would beterrible—and they might be quite innocent people."

"Not they," returned Lord Thralldom brusquely. "They'dcertainly be armed themselves, and at any rate, they'd be therefor no good purpose. If they come round here spying at night andmeet with any accident," he shrugged his shoulders, "then, that'stheir own look out."

"Frightens you!" echoed Lord Thralldom. He laughed grimly."Why, there's nothing in killing a man when he's out to kill you.It takes very little getting used to, and the novelty soonpasses." He stirred his coffee slowly and continuedreminiscently. "I was a young subaltern in India when I killed myfirst man, and I remember it was just as dawn was breaking in adeep valley between two high hills. I stabbed him in a hand-to-hand fight and I admit the look upon his face, as he fell,haunted me for quite a little while"—hefrowned—"until I had had my breakfast, in fact, but afterthat I might never have thought of it again if I had not happenedto have broken a good knife." He eyed Ann again very sternly."But nothing ought to frighten you, Ann, for you have Thralldomblood in you and a Thralldom never knows fear."

"But I am frightened of lots of things," exclaimed the girlquickly, "and if I thought as you do, I should be afraid to beliving here. Really, Uncle," she went on frowningly, "I am sureyou must be imagining everything."

Lord Thralldom's eyes glowed like coals of fire. "Iimagining!" he retorted angrily. "You don't know what you aretalking about, girl." He clenched his bony hands togetherconvulsively. "Why, since I bought that Rubens, six months ago,all eyes in the art world have been focused on this castle, and athousand miscreants, if one, are scheming to obtain it." Hisvoice rose in the intensity of his passion. "Night and day, if weonly knew it, we are being watched, and only the utmost vigilanceon our part can preserve my collection of paintings intact." Heglared round at everyone. "Night after night, when you have allbeen sleeping, I have laboured up on to the battlements and seenfigures flitting through the mist. Yes, it may be thought that Iam mad and crazy in my precautions, but I realise, only too well,that I am not."

The footmen preserved the uninterested and impassiveexpressions of well-trained servants, but the others at the tableglanced covertly at one another and then turned down theireyes.

Suddenly the door opened and the butler glided in. "Well,"enquired Lord Thralldom irritably, but dropping his voice at onceto a quieter tone, "why is not Rawlings here?"

The butler spoke very quickly and in some excitement, "He'snot at his home, my lord. He went out just before eleven and hasnot been home all night. No one knows where he is, and Mrs.Rawlings is very anxious. She thinks he must have met with someaccident."

A moment's silence followed and then Lord Thralldom exclaimedangrily, "Rubbish! What possible accident can he have met with?"He glared at the butler as if he were the offender. "More likelyshe's had a quarrel with him and is afraid to say, and he'sabsenting himself now to teach her a lesson." He looked round atthe others at the table. "His wife's a nagger and he's sick ofit. That's it." He waved to the butler. "At any rate, ring upagain and say I'm most annoyed."

The butler left the room and Lady Deering gave an amusedlittle laugh. "Really," she said, addressing herself to CaptainBonnett, "it's becoming quite the fashion for husbands about hereto go off and leave their wives and now, if Rawlings has goneoff, he'll be the third one who has done so in the last fewweeks."

"Yes," went on Lady Deering, "first there was Mr. McHenty,from the bank in Saxmundham, who went off with a school-teacherfrom Leiston, then——"

"Oh! Mother, don't be so horrid," broke in her stepdaughterwarmly. "You are only repeating the scandal of these littletowns. It may not be true at all that he went off with MissPascoe. No one is sure of it. He may just have lost his memory,like many over-worked people do and not remember where helives."

Lady Deering smiled indulgently. "Well, they both disappearedthe same night, dear, didn't they? And it came out afterwards,too, that they were both upon unexpectedly friendly terms." Sheturned again to Captain Bonnett. "Now it looks suspicious,doesn't it? A middle-aged man and a young girl both missing atthe same time?"

The captain hesitated a moment. "On the face of it," hereplied judicially, "I am afraid it does. When did it happen?" heasked.

"About a month ago," replied Lady Deering, "and nothing's beenheard of either of them since. Of course it created a greatsensation, because they were both naturally well-known where theylived." She smiled again. "But really, as I say, this runningaway seems to be quite infectious, for not a week after they weremissing, a man who keeps an inn at Yoxford, went off and left hiswife in exactly the same way. Everyone said——"

"Nagging wives," interrupted Lord Thralldom sharply. "I tellyou, men won't put up with what they did years ago, and Rawlings'wife must have tried his temper quite a lot."

"Oh! Uncle," reproved Ann Devenham reproachfully, "She's not anagger. I'm sure of it. She's very quiet and good-tempered."

"Well, she never looks it to me," said Lord Thralldom coldly,"and I'm not likely to be mistaken in a woman at my time oflife."

The butler brought in some letters upon a salver and handedthem round. There were several for Lord Thralldom, two for LadyDeering and one for Ann. Ann did not open hers but, after onequick glance at the handwriting, laid the envelope, face-downwards, upon the table and turning to Captain Bonnett begantalking to him in a subdued tone of voice.

The captain regarded her admiringly. She had beautiful, even,white teeth and a very pretty mouth and when she talked orsmiled, an attractive dimple appeared upon her cheek. There wasnothing in any way intimate in the nature of their conversation,and the girl was only apparently now indulging in it in order togive her relatives an opportunity of going through theircorrespondence undisturbed.

Presently rumbles of annoyance began to come from LordThralldom, and as usual with him when upset, he began talking tohimself. He was reading a letter written in bold, big,handwriting, and his lips quivered and his face grew furious ashis eyes travelled down the sheet.

"Impertinence!" he muttered, "insolence, a brazen piece ofeffrontery!" He looked up suddenly with blazing eyes. "Listen tothis, Marmaduke," he said. "Can you conceive of greater impudencein all your life?"

Lord Thralldom spoke in a tone of concentrated fury. "A manwrites, a fellow writes"—he could hardly get hisbreath—"that my Rubens is not genuine and that it is onlyan early Van Dyck."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the captain, "quite a good joke." Hescoffed. "Some jealous crank, probably, who just writes to annoyyou."

"An early Van Dyck!" repeated Lord Thralldom breathlessly."What colossal impertinence!" He scowled. "It certainly doesannoy me. It annoys me a great deal."

"Well, tear it up," said the captain promptly, "and don't giveit another thought." He shook his head. "I can never understandthese anonymous letter-writers, wasting the price of a postagestamp."

"But it's not anonymous," frowned Lord Thralldom. "He signshis name and"—he scowled again at the sheet beforehim—"it looks like 'Hudson'."

"Hudson! Hudson!" repeated the captain. "Well, that's a verycommon name and I've never heard of any Hudson who knows anythingabout paintings except a Yank, and he's a Silas Hudson, of NewYork."

Lord Thralldom was glancing at the letter in his hand. "Thissignature," he said slowly, and there was just a little quiver inhis voice, "looks like 'Silas Hudson,' 'Silas Q. Hudson,' Ithink."

The captain almost fell back in his chair in astonishment."Silas Q. Hudson!" he exclaimed. "Why that is he. Silas QuaverHudson, one of the greatest experts in the United States." Heleant forward excitedly. "Good heavens! What does he say?"

"I consider it my duty to inform you that I have strongreasons for believing that 'The Man of Sorrows' you purchasedlast March from Mr. Claud Happer is not a genuine Rubens. I thinkI know the painting, and if so, it is one of the early works ofVan Dyck! If you wish, I shall be agreeable to examine it andpronounce my opinion. I am approaching you, because I happen tobe in your neighbourhood and upon a holiday.

A few moments' silence followed and then Lord Thralldom burstout angrily. "The man's an imbecile, a perfect fool! How dare hesuggest such a thing?" He turned sharply to the captain. "You sayyou know him?"

Captain Bonnett nodded. "Slightly," he replied. "I wasintroduced to him, a couple of years or so back, in New York. Ijust spoke to him and that was all, for, as usual, he wasmonopolising all the conversation."

The captain shook his head. "I wouldn't like to say that, sir,for"—he hesitated and then admitted as if with somereluctance—"he's supposed to be about the cutest dealer onthe other side."

"The sharpest, perhaps, the most unscrupulous," sneered LordThralldom. He lifted his hand suddenly. "Ah! I remember now. I'veheard of him. It was he who paid that poor widow in Denver twothousand dollars for her Botticelli last year and sold it thesame week to Sir Charles Medway for more than ten times thatamount."

"Well, two thousand dollars," commented the captain slowly,"was all the executors under the will asked, and Hudson was quitejustified in accepting those terms upon the spot, besides"—and he smiled—"that widow was not in any way poor.Her husband left her over a hundred thousand—not indollars, but in pounds."

"Well, Hudson's a rogue, anyhow," said Lord Thralldom, "andI'd never trust him a yard." Anger flared up into his eyes again."But what does he know about my Rubens? He's never seen it?"

The captain looked very impartial. "Oh! I wouldn't like to saythat, sir. He's supposed to have seen every painting of notethat's come into the market during the last twenty years, andremember—your 'Man of Sorrows' has changed hands threetimes since Lord Molesbury died."

"Yes," sneered Lord Thralldom, "and in the salerooms thegreatest art experts in the world have examined it and pronouncedit genuine, so this Hudson's opinion is of no value and," hesnapped his fingers together—"I'll ignore him."

"Yes, that's right," agreed the captain instantly. "Treat himwith contempt and don't reply to his letter." An idea seemed tostrike him suddenly and he shook his head slowly. "But thefellow's a great talker and of course he'd broadcast it all aboutthat you don't dare to allow him to examine your painting."

"And it'll be disappointing in a way," went on the captainmeditatively, "for I'd have loved to have watched him when youshowed him the Rubens. He's such a cocksure beggar and it wouldhave been such a slap in the face for him."

"Probably not," growled Lord Thralldom, "for whatever opinionhe'd come to—to save his own face he'd still stick to itthat he was right."

"No, no," exclaimed the captain most emphatically, "he'd neverdo that, for whatever his faults, Art is an obsession with him.His whole life is wrapped up in the works of the great mastersand he thinks of nothing but them." He spoke with enthusiasm."No, Silas Q. Hudson would grovel in abject humility before hisworst enemy, if that enemy possessed a canvas of great beauty ornote."

"Well, my 'Man of Sorrows' has great beauty," said LordThralldom slowly, "and it's one of the great paintings of theworld," He was silent for a few moments and then went onhesitatingly, "Really, from what you tell me of the fellow, I'dlike to humiliate him. I detest all Americans."

"Oh! you'd humiliate him right enough," laughed the captain."In two minutes he'd be as limp as a rag."

"Well, you couldn't mistake him for anything else but anAmerican," was the reply. "He's tall and skinny and has a sharp,hatchet face with hard, calculating eyes, and lips that arepressed up tight. He'd walk in here as if he owned the earth,with no respect for anyone, and as if he were better than youand, indeed, it would almost be an act of grace, I think, if hetook off his hat."

Lord Thralldom regarded the letter again. "And he's on thetelephone," he said slowly. "He's stopping at that old house onMinsmere Haven." He suddenly snarled savagely. "Gad! I'll havehim up." He turned to the butler. "Ring up Minsmere House, Bevan.Ask for a man called Hudson, and instruct him to come up here ateleven this morning. Order him to be up at the exact time. Andyou, William and James," he went on, "see to it the whole timethat this man is here, that you keep by him. Never leave his sideunless I order you to."

The old man, with no further appetite for his breakfast, thenrose shakily from his chair and with tottering steps, and leaningheavily upon Lady Deering's arm, passed out of the room.

A couple of minutes or so later the Captain and Ann Devenhamwere together in the music room. She had made a sign to him tofollow her, and never loth to dance attendance upon a prettygirl, he had, with no demur, complied. But it was quicklyapparent that it was for no sentimental reason that she wished tospeak to him alone, for addressing him at once, she saidsharply,

"Captain Bonnett, I am very angry with you. You know whatuncle is and yet you deliberately egged him on to ask thatAmerican to come up to the castle. It'll only upset him andperhaps make him downright ill again." She stamped her foot. "Idon't know what you did it for, but you ought to have had moresense."

Captain Bonnett's face flushed. The accusation was so directand so unexpected that, for the moment, he was not ready with anyreply.

"Yes," went on the girl with her eyes flashing, "it was veryclever the way you did it, and you may have thought no one wouldhave seen through it, but I did."

The captain had quite recovered himself now, and smiled as ifhe were amused. "But you are really too clever, Miss Devenham,and like so many of your charming sex, too quick in jumping atconclusions." His voice hardened resentfully. "I never tried toinfluence your uncle in the slightest and am not in the least bitinterested in this man, Hudson, coming up."

"Well, it looked like it," said Ann Devenham, "and at anyrate, you might have influenced him the other way."

Captain Bonnett shrugged his shoulders. "But does it matter?"he asked. "Besides, if you want my candid opinion, it'll do himgood. He wants to throw off this nonsensical idea that everybodyis trying to rob him." He lowered his voice to gentleness. "Butlook here, Miss Devenham, you've not been at all nice to me theselast few days, in fact ever since you came back from Saxmundham.I've noticed it in many ways. You're different from what you werebefore you went away."

It was now the girl's turn to flush, but she answered quicklyenough. "I am sure I don't know what you mean. I am no differentfrom what I have ever been." She regarded him, as cold as ice. "Iwas never particularly nice to you at any time, was I?"

"But you let me kiss you that night in the chapel," heretorted, stung to anger by the contemptuous look she was nowgiving him.

"Let you!" she exclaimed indignantly. "It was done before Icould prevent it. You kissed my arm when I was playing at theorgan, and if the matter had been worth mentioning I should havespoken to my uncle about it." She inclined her head, and addedcuttingly, "But it was after dinner, Captain Bonnett."

"Bah! a woman always knows when a man is wanting to kiss her,"scoffed the captain, "and you deliberately put temptation in myway. You were quite——" but the girl had turnedquickly and was leaving the room.

"Pretty little vixen," he remarked after she had gone. "Shewants a good slapping, and I'd like to be the one to give it toher." He nodded his head smilingly. "But I'd make love to herwell, first."

At eleven o'clock, when Lord Thralldom was reading in thegreat library of the castle, the door opened and the butlerannounced, "That Mr. Hudson has arrived, my lord."

His lordship looked up sharply from his book. "Oh! he has, hashe?" he frowned. "Well, tell Captain Bonnett to come here andthen bring the man in."

Captain Bonnett was quickly on the spot, and a couple ofminutes or so later, Silas Hudson was ushered into the room. Hewas accompanied by Kelly and was leaning heavily upon thelatter's arm. Kelly, dressed decorously in sober black and withhis hair well plastered down, was trying hard to assume what hebelieved to be the correct appearance of a gentleman'sservant.

As Captain Bonnett had prophesied, there were certainly noindications of any feelings of awe about the American, and themoment he was within speaking distance of Lord Thralldom, andalmost, indeed, before he had crossed the threshold, of thelibrary door, he called out loudly,

Lord Thralldom regarded him intently but in chilling silence,and Captain Bonnett, standing close beside his lordship withdifficulty repressed a smile, for he was intrigued with thespectacle of the truculent Kelly endeavouring to mask hispugnacious features with lines of respectful servility.

Silas Hudson went on as if he were well content to be doingall the greetings, "Nice little place you've got here—thiscastle, and I reckon if you carried it across the water, I couldguarantee you a quarter of a million dollars for it, easy." Helooked round the walls of the room. "Pretty old, I shouldsay."

Lord Thralldom turned to Captain Bonnett. "This is Mr.Hudson?" he asked quietly.

The American looked quickly at the captain. "I don't know you,sir," he remarked, frowningly, "and I don't reckon I've seen youbefore, but you've got me all right, and I'm Silas Q. Hudson andno one else."

"And this other gentleman," asked Lord Thralldom sharply,indicating Kelly, "who is he?"

"My body-servant and my masseur," replied Hudson promptly."It's my bad luck to have become rheumatic since I came over hereand I can't walk well without him." He patted Kelly on theshoulder. "He's a capable fellow."

Lord Thralldom regarded Hudson with contempt. "And you say youhave reason to believe"—he spoke with an effort—"thata certain painting in my possession is not what it purports tobe; in other words, that it is a forgery."

"Not at all, not at all," exclaimed the American loudly. "Inever used the word forgery. I believe your 'Man of Sorrows' maybe a true and very great painting but, from what I know of itshistory, it was never suggested by anyone until within the lastfifty years that it was the work of P. P. Rubens."

He plunged headlong in the matter and went on glibly. "Youbought it from Happer, Happer bought it when Kreutz sent it upfor sale seven years ago, and we know everyone who has possessedit since 1893. Prior to 1893, however, and back to the end of theeighteenth century, we cannot trace any of its places of domicileand my belief that it is purely a Van Dyke is based on the factthat in 1797 it was sold by the heirs of Otto Hansen, ofStuttgart, and Hansen was a known collector, almost exclusively,of the paintings of that artist." He paused a moment to takebreath. "And that is why, my lord, I have consideredly formed theopinion that your 'Man of Sorrows' is no work of Rubens atall."

Lord Thralldom's face had paled a little, and it was evidentthat he was perturbed to some extent by the confident assuranceof the American dealer. He kept opening and shutting his mouth,and moistening his lips with his tongue.

"But it is nonsense," he burst out angrily. "Not one—buta hundred experts have examined my Rubens and pronounced itgenuine."

"Well, I haven't done so," asserted Hudson truculently, "anduntil I've looked it over, I keep to my opinion that it is not aRubens." He looked contemptuously in his turn at Lord Thralldom."But I'll tell you in one glance, if it's a Rubens or not. That'smy life's work and I've got paintings in my blood."

Lord Thralldom composed himself with a strong effort. "Followme, then," he said haughtily. "I'll teach you a lesson."

"And I'm willing to learn one," almost shouted back Hudson."I'll take any lesson you can give me and thank you for it."

Followed by Captain Bonnett and his two visitors and with thefootmen pressing close behind, Lord Thralldom moved with slow andshaking steps along a richly-carpeted passage to the picturegallery of the castle.

The gallery was some distance away and was a long oblongchamber, obtaining its natural light from above, and from longwindows, the whole length of one side. To all of these windowsthere were stout steel bars, and the door was a heavy, closely-meshed, steel grille. There was a number of deeply-cushioned arm-chairs along the middle of the gallery with their backs turnedtowards the windows.

Lord Thralldom advanced to about half-way along the entirelength of the gallery, until he came to a large painting hangingalone and separated by many feet from any other. A stout brassrail waist-high, prevented a too near approach to thispainting.

He stretched out his arm. "'The Man of Sorrows'," heexclaimed, with a deep note of challenge in his voice, "paintedby Peter Paul Rubens, year 1621."

Silas Hudson, supported by Kelly, limped forward and with aswift backward glance over his shoulder at the light, took up aposition above half a dozen paces from the canvas, facing itexactly in the middle.

A long minute's silence then ensued, everyone in the gallerystanding perfectly still, their eyes fastened intently uponHudson, while the latter stared at the painting.

The American stood as immovable as a rock, with the exceptionof his eyes, which shut and opened several times. Then he sighed,a deep, intense sigh that everyone there heard. Then he swallowedhard and, at last, he spoke, but hardly louder than a whisper. Itseemed as though he were quite oblivious to the others standinground him and were talking to himself.

"Wonderful! wonderful!" he ejaculated. He seemed to hardlybreathe. "The most beautiful thing on earth. Wonderful," herepeated. "A miracle of colour and design! One of the greatestmasterpieces in the world of art!" His voice trailed away tosilence and, head bowed and hands clasped, his attitude was oneof awed reverence.

"And it is a forgery?" sneered Lord Thralldom who had enduredthe American's silence with great impatience. "It is not the workof Rubens you say?"

Hudson awoke from his reverie with a start. "No! no!" heexclaimed passionately. "It is all Rubens and perhaps"—hisvoice was harsh in its earnestness—"the greatest of all hisworks!" and then, obviously with great reluctance, he withdrewhis eyes from the canvas and faced Lord Thralldom.

"My lord," he said humbly, now a very different person fromthe arrogant picture dealer of a few minutes ago, "I owe you noapology, for a sincere and honest man should never need toapologise for anything he has said when he believed he wasspeaking the truth, but"—he bowed mostrespectfully—"I am most devoutly sorry that I wrote youthat letter. No,"—he corrected himself quickly, and withsomething of his former spirit appearing toreturn—"selfishly speaking, I am not sorry at all, for ithas been the means of enabling me to stand before one of the mostbeautiful paintings I have ever seen."

He went on in sharp and businesslike tones—"It did nottake me that long time before I spoke to determine it was aRubens. It did not, indeed, take me five seconds to discern thetruth, for with my lifelong experience of the works of the greatmasters, one glance only, was sufficient to convince me that noother brush save that of Rubens has touched this canvas." Hebowed again. "I congratulate you, my lord, from the bottom of myheart upon its possession."

The expression upon Lord Thralldom's face had been graduallysoftening whilst the American was speaking, for the heart of nocollector could remain for long hardened against such unstintedpraise. His face now became suffused with pride and pleasure and,indeed, he was so gratified with the abject capitulations of thedealer, that the taunts and sneers he had prepared for him, diedstill-born.

"And you don't want to examine the signature?" he asked with asmile. "Surely, you have brought a magnifying glass withyou?"

Silas Hudson smiled back. "No need, my lord. That richcolouring and bold design, that superb mastery of detail, andthat glorious portrayal of the fullness of life can only beRubens and Rubens alone." He nodded his head. "And I have hadsome experience, you know."

"And you admire the painting then?" asked Lord Thraldom,thirsting to hear, again and again, such words of praise.

"Admire it!" queried Hudson. "Why, I could spend days beforeit and then not have absorbed one tenth of the beauty of itsdetail. Three weeks ago, I viewed what I consider now may perhapsbe its companion picture 'The Descent from the Cross' in AntwerpCathedral and"—he nodded his head solemnly—"it lackssomething of the mastery of this."

Lord Thralldom could hardly contain himself in his delight."And I have other paintings here that you may perhaps admire," heexclaimed, rubbing his hands together, "if you would care toinspect them."

"I shall be delighted, if I may," returned Hudson warmly, andhis eyes ranged quickly round the gallery. "Ah! a Botticelli, Isee; an Andrea del Sarto, a Titian, a Paul Veronese, a Rembrandt.Good Heavens!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "What a pricelesscollection! I had no idea you possessed all these."

Lord Thralldom chuckled like a pleased child. "And there's aHogarth over there," he said, "a Gainsborough, a Constable, an M.W. Turner and lots of others."

The American appeared most astonished and then, suddenly, hisexpression altered. He frowned and looked apprehensively round.He limped a few paces from Kelly, and close up to Lord Thralldom,lowered his voice to an intense whisper.

"But, my lord," he breathed softly and with his eyes as roundas saucers, "do you realise that, in a lonely spot like this, youare running a great risk in gathering together so many valuablepaintings?" He raised a warning finger. "Have you taken allprecautions against burglars?"

Lord Thralldom nodded, but at the same time looked ratheruneasy. "Every precaution," he replied. "It is quite impossible,I think, for anyone to break in and, more impossible still, totake my Rubens."

Silas Hudson seemed greatly relieved. "Well, that's good," hesaid, "for, in the interests of Art, it would be a calamity ifany of your pictures were stolen."

"And you think I am wise," asked Lord Thralldom anxiously, "inbeing prepared for any such attempt?"

"Sure," replied the American emphatically, "for if it'sgenerally known that you have got all these paintings here," henodded his head significantly—"you can bet your life thecastle is being watched."

"That's what I say," exclaimed Lord Thralldom excitedly, "andyet all the others here think that I am alarming myselfunnecessarily. It is quite a bone of contention between us." Hebecame most friendly. "Sit down, Mr. Hudson. I'd like to have agood chat with you." He raised his voice. "James, take Mr.Hudson's man into the servants' hall and give him somerefreshment." He turned back to the American. "And you'll havesomething, too, sir, presently, or perhaps you will do me thefavour of staying to lunch? No, it will be a great treat to me, Iassure you, for I don't often get someone I can talk paintingsto."

"It's very good of you and I shall be most pleased," repliedHudson. "My time is quite free for I'm on holiday, as I toldyou."

Lord Thralldom turned to Captain Bonnett. "You needn't wait,Marmaduke," he said dryly. "You can join the ladies. I knowyou're wanting to. No, I shan't require anyone to remain. Mr.Hudson and I shall be staying here until lunch-time," he smiledat the American, "talking shop."

Captain Bonnett and the footmen at once left the gallery andfor two hours Lord Thralldom and the American enjoyed the benefitof each other's society. The former was delighted with hisvisitor, for the American was unstinting in his praise of all thepaintings, and was moreover, able to point out their merits withthe knowledge and experience of a man who had travelled all overEurope in the pursuit of his calling.

Then at lunch, Silas Hudson gathered yet further laurels fromLady Deering and Ann Devenham. The latter had at first beenminded to be very cool and distant, but the frank yet respectfuladmiration with which he regarded her and the beneficial effectthat she could not help seeing he was exerting over her grand-uncle, very quickly disarmed her, and in the end, she was smilingat him as much as was Lord Thralldom himself.

Hudson was a good talker and not only had he, as CaptainBonnett had said, actually seen most of the great paintings ofthe world, but he was able to describe his travels and adventuresin pursuit of them in a most interesting way, and grip theattention of his hearers with everything he said.

Indeed, the only one at the meal who did not appear to beenjoying the presence of their visitor to the full was CaptainBonnett, and his annoyance sprang from two sources. He did notlike it that Hudson was so lavish with his compliments to Ann andevidently meant them, and also he was really angry because theAmerican chaffed him so unmercifully about the unfinished copy ofthe Turner upon the easel in the picture gallery.

"Gosh!" Hudson had exclaimed with a merry glance round at theothers, "but I can see, Captain, you're dangerous. If you go oncopying paintings like that, no one in the art world will besafe. One day you'll make a copy of his lordship's Rubens here,and then he'll wake up one morning and see two canvases and notknow which is which." And he had laughed so merrily at his witthat Bonnett would have liked to have slapped his face.

In the meantime, Kelly was all eyes and ears in the servants'hall and, never at any time averse from female society, was soonenjoying himself quite a lot.

None of the maids was bad looking and indeed, two of them weredistinctly pretty, and all five of them did their best to maketheir visitor feel at ease. Then too, the chef turned out to be amost obliging man, and in addition to the really dainty meal thathe had provided for the staff, for Kelly's special benefit heproduced a most delicious sweet omelette.

The lunch in the dining-room over, it was the turn of James,the under-footman, to be off duty, and in the men-servants'special little room over a renewed supply of good sound ale, heopened out and gave his guest quite a lot of information aboutthe castle and its inhabitants.

Old Thralldom was a bit trying with his cranky ways, he toldthe American's servant, but the wages were very good and the foodcould not be better.

No, there wasn't much freedom for the staff, for everyone hadto be indoors by ten o'clock and then the castle was sealed uplike a tomb. There were locks and bolts and bars everywhere, asif the place were a blooming prison, and they had to keep wicked-looking pistols—one of which was exhibited in proof of theassertion—in case burglars should attempt to break in.

Old Thralldom thought of nothing but his pictures and he wouldsit for hours and hours at a time staring at them, for all theworld as if they were a row of pretty girls.

Lady Deering was uppish but Ann was sweet. She was a deucedpretty bit, but her uncle took darned good care that she shouldnot get a boy. She had recently, however, been stopping for aweek in Saxmundham and there were rumours that she had at lastmet someone whom she liked. At any rate, she had had five danceswith a young chap in a bank there, at the Shire Ball. He, James,had heard it, with his own ears from a gent, a friend of his, whohad been in charge of the cloakroom at the Assembly Hall upon thenight of the ball.

Ann was a wonderful musician, too, and once when she had beenplaying upon the organ in the castle chapel, Bert Bevan, thebutler, who privately was a bit of a Bolshevist, had statedopenly that he felt inclined to sing a hymn or say his bloomingprayers.

Oh! Captain Bonnett! Well, they knew more about the captainthan he dreamed, for Bertha, one of the girls he, Mr. Kelly, hadjust seen, had once been in service in a family in London whenBonnett had been visiting there. The captain didn't remember herbut she remembered him right enough. He was a gay bird—adarned gay bird, and he had been bankrupt twice and was alwayshard up. He had been divorced from his wife and there were lotsof tales going about him; in fact his reputation was none toogood, but old Thralldom lived in a world of his own, and neverheard anything about anyone, and as Bonnett was some distantconnection of Lady Deering, he was allowed to visit the castle.He thought he could paint but he, James, and the butler were incomplete agreement that he daubed on rotten stuff.

About the castle? Yes, half of it had been walled off and adevilish good thing too, for horrible murders had been done in itand ghosts walked at night. Yes, of course there were secretpassages all over the place and twice he had caught the cheftapping the walls to try and find them. The chef was a poorspecimen of a man, but a darned good cook, and was always makingsweets for the girls.

For a solid two hours and more Kelly was entertained by theloquacious and friendly footman, and then returning once again tothe kitchen, he topped down the four glasses of ale he hadimbibed with two cups of strong tea. By that time he had comedefinitely to four conclusions.

The first—he would like to take Bertha, the under-parlourmaid out for a walk one evening and, preferably, he wouldchoose a night when there was no moon.

The second—although the elaborate system of locks andbolts and bars that existed in the castle might be most perfect,still, the human element behind it—he did not put it tohimself in quite that way—was weak and could be easilydealt with.

The third—the panes of glass in the windows appeared tobe of an unusual size everywhere, and if they were cut, it wouldbe quite possible for a full sized man to pass through, withoutin any way interfering with the window sashes to which the alarmswere fixed.

The fourth—he didn't like the dandy-looking chef, forthe chap was by no means the softy the other servants took him tobe. His eyes were everywhere and nothing escaped him.

A summons came for Kelly at last and he was called to assisthis master back into the car, and into such esteem had the latterleapt, that a little group were assembled round the big entrancedoor to bid him good-bye. Kelly noted, with distinct approval,the aristocratic beauty of Ann Devenham.

"Mind you come again on Friday," said Lord Thralldom, "andwe'll have another long talk together."

"Sure, I will," replied the American heartily, "and I'll begreatly pleased." He screwed up his face into a grimace. "But Irealise I made one great mistake, my lord. I thought this morningthat your Rubens was the most beautiful thing in the castle butnow"—and he made a gallant bow in the direction of AnnDevenham—"I see I must modify that opinion."

"And perhaps you're right, sir," laughed back Lord Thralldom.He made the pretence of nodding his head doubtfully. "But at anyrate, it's a close call."

The two drove away with Hudson at the wheel, and for twohundred yards, at least, neither of them made any remark. Thenthe American leant back in his seat and gave vent to a long,intense chuckle of laughter.

"Gad!" he exclaimed delightedly, "but sure, I'm some actor. Itwas a miracle the way I did it, and things couldn't be goingbetter."

"Oh! you pugged up the old fool, right enough," growled Kelly,"but it was child's play. He's a darned fool about hispictures."

"And I'm to go up on Friday again," chuckled Hudson, "andyou"—he could hardly speak for laughing—"are to go upto-morrow and massage his niece."

"You've—got—to—give—her massagefor—her back," jerked out Hudson in an ecstasy ofmerriment. "I—havearranged—it—for—you."

He sobered down at the fury in the other's face. "It was likethis," he explained. "I told them you were my body-servant and mymasseur, didn't I? Well it came out after lunch that his niecewas suffering from lumbago and her doctor had said she must havea course of massage. Then Lord Thralldom hopped in with thesuggestion that as there was no masseur, nearer than Norwich,perhaps I'd oblige by lending you." His eyes twinkled again. "Sowhat could I do?"

"Well, it was damned foolery," exclaimed Kelly. "I don't knowanything about massage."

"But you soon will," replied Hudson quickly, "for between nowand to-morrow at eleven when you've got to go up to the castle,I'll give you some lessons and you shall learn on Fenner. I knowsomething about it, for, two years ago, I had to have fiftydollars' worth in Chicago." He was most enthusiastic. "Why, man!It's a wonderful chance of spying out inside the castle, foryou're to go up every day for a fortnight, and it's quite theluck of our lives."

"Perhaps not," agreed Hudson with a covert smile, "but as shesays she's never had any massage before, she mayn't notice it."He spoke sharply. "Now, no nonsense. You've got to massage thatfemale's back, and you'll have to wear rubber gloves to coverthose dreadful paws of yours. Oh!" he went on quickly, "I wasforgetting. Did you find out much to-day?"

"Of course I did," replied Kelly in a surly tone. "I'm not afool like that dandy Bonnett. I found out quite a lot." He jerkedhis head. "The place'll be quite easy to get into, but I'll talkabout it when we're out of this rotten old car. The bumping makesme sick."

A long silence followed and they drove on quite half a milebefore either of them spoke again. Then Kelly said meditatively,"And the niece is that girl, Ann?"

CHAPTER III. — THE TASK OF LAROSE

"AND it is an entirely mistaken idea, as no onewill of course know better than yourself, Mr. Larose," said theChief Commissioner of Scotland Yard, "that crime, as weunderstand it, finds its most fertile soil in great cities, andwhere people are gathered together in large numbers." He shookhis head slowly. "The lonely places of the land, in proportion tothe dwellers there, have just as many dark and sinister secretsto hide." He smiled sadly. "The little, sleepy village tuckedaway in some quiet corner of the country-side, the almostdesolate coast about some lonely stretch of sea, or the moor thatshelters only some isolated shepherd's hut, may all hug, if weonly knew it, their secrets of dark and undiscovered crime."

Gilbert Larose nodded. He was a boyish-looking man, stillunder thirty, and no one would have imagined, from a cursoryglance at his frank and open features, that he was a detective ofinternational reputation, and in his own country was responsiblefor many an unmarked grave within the prison walls of the citiesof the great Commonwealth of Australia.

"Individual crimes, sir," he said respectfully, "particularlythose of violence are, I think, always more prone to occur wherepeople live much by themselves. They seem to become morbid then,and brood over little things. I have often noticed that in thelonely parts of Australia."

"Exactly," said the Commissioner, "for they lose the rightperspective of things." He smiled. "Now, leading up from theseconclusions, I have a nice little problem to place before you.No," he corrected himself quickly, "I am not sure whether it is aproblem at all but to determine it, one way or the other, is whyI have summoned you here."

He motioned Larose to bring his chair nearer, and unfolding alarge ordnance map, spread it out upon the desk before him.

"Now, this is a map of Suffolk," he went on, "and there is asmall corner here that just now is very interesting." He pointedwith his pencil. "It is this part adjacent to the coast thatembraces the towns of Saxmundham, Leiston and Yoxford, and thelittle village of Westleton."

"To put it in a nutshell, Mr. Larose, within the last fewweeks, or to be exact, thirty-five days, four people in thisdistrict, all unrelated to one another and of varying ages anddiffering conditions of life have just walked out of their homesand disappeared, and we are wondering"—he paused amoment—"we are wondering if their several disappearancesare just merely coincidences, or if, on the other hand, they areall linked up together by happenings of which we have noknowledge and the significance of which we do notunderstand."

"Very interesting," commented the detective, "and did allthese disappearances take place on different dates?"

"No," replied the Commissioner reaching for a paper that layupon the desk. "On the night of Sunday, August 13th, the managerof one of the banks in Saxmundham and a school teacher from theneighbouring town of Leiston, about three miles away,disappeared. On the night of Tuesday, August 29th, an innkeeperfrom Yoxford went, and on Friday, September 15th, just two weeksago, the bailiff of Lord Thralldom, of Thralldom Castle, walkedout into the night and has not been heard of since."

"Yes, the bank manager, and the school teacher left theirrespective homes just before 9.30, but the innkeeper and thebailiff left later. The innkeeper just after ten and the bailiffat a quarter to eleven."

"And were the bank manager and the school teacher acquaintedwith one another?" asked the detective.

The Commissioner of Police laughed, and raised one hand inmock reproof. "Ah! I knew you'd ask that. That was, of course,the first thought that came into everybody's mind, and it musthave been a nice tit-bit of scandal for the two towns. Yes, theywere acquainted, and, added to that, the school teacher,although, as I have said, a resident in Leiston, had an accountin the Saxmundham bank." He shook his head. "Yes, that madepeople talk."

"And what is the general view then that people take of thesedisappearances?" asked Larose.

"Oh!" replied the Commissioner, "that the two of them eloped,of course; that the innkeeper went off with another woman,unknown; and that the bailiff fell over the cliffs in the darkand was drowned."

"Then what made the Suffolk police come to us?" asked Larose."There would seem to be no particular need unless they are in thepossession of more facts than you have outlined to me."

"Well," replied the Commissioner, "there are wheels withinwheels." He nodded his head. "It so happens that Mrs. Rawlings,the wife of the missing bailiff, was at one time a cook in theservice of the present member of Parliament for the Borough ofIpswich, and, dissatisfied with the efforts of the local police,and angry, so she said, that they were taking no more interest inher husband's disappearance than they had taken in the cases ofthe others, she went to her one-time master for help. He is aninfluential supporter of the Government and approached the HomeOffice direct. They got in touch with me and upon my suggestion,the Chief Constable of Suffolk then forwarded copies of thepolice reports." He smiled. "That's how it is we come to be drawnin."

"No," smiled the Commissioner, "in fact they are inclined tobe very annoyed that we have been applied to, but the ChiefConstable of Suffolk is a particular friend of mine and, in thecourse of some conversation over the phone yesterday, hesuggested jokingly that as we had got the celebrated GilbertLarose here, then he ought to be sent down." The Commissionershrugged his shoulders and laughed. "So, here am I, obliging afriend."

The smile immediately left the Commissioner's face, and hehesitated some moments before replying. Then he said very slowly,"Frankly, Mr. Larose, I do not know, for taking the reportssingly, the four disappearances seem trivial and of no importanceexcept to those intimately concerned." He spoke sharply. "Takensingly, I say, but"—and he looked troubled—"taken allfour together, there are features about them that I do not likeand I am now wondering if that pretty little corner ofSuffolk"—he pointed to the outstretched map upon thedesk—"usually so given up to holiday-makers and happiness,is not now choking under the grip of some unknown and bloodyassassin."

He picked up a bundle of papers lying before him and in aquick movement handed them across to the detective.

"Here, take these," he said, "and go down into Suffolk, thefirst thing to-morrow." He was smiling again now. "You will comeback looking rather foolish or else"—he nodded his headgrimly—"I shall expect you to be giving evidence, in thenear future, at the Ipswich Assizes."

For a long time then, when alone in his room that night,Larose considered the reports that the Chief Commissioner hadhanded over, but it was the photographs of the missing personsthat first engaged his attention. They were all of fairly recentdates.

The school teacher was a plain-looking brunette of anunattractive type. She had a grave, thoughtful face, with oval,rather dreamy-looking, dark eyes.

The bank manager was a plain, matter-of-fact looking man, withclosely cut hair over a square forehead. He had a shrewd face,and a chin that spoke of resolution and self-control.

The innkeeper looked jovial and merry. His face was round andchubby and his lips were parted in a smile.

The bailiff's face was long and taciturn-looking. Itsexpression was grave and he had the appearance of a man with noimagination but with a strong sense of duty.

"Well, certainly this bailiff was no gay Don Juan," mutteredthe detective, "nor the banker, either, I should say. Theinnkeeper, however, would appreciate the good things of life, forhe looks a bit of a sport. As for the girl"—hehesitated—"well, I can't think of anyone eloping with herand certainly not a man of the type of the bank manager. Indeed,I can hardly imagine either of them inspiring romance inanyone."

He unfolded the reports. They had been drawn up by the localconstables, and amplified later by the enquiries of specialplain-clothes officers who had been sent down from Ipswich. Hecarefully and methodically proceeded to pick out the mainfacts.

Rita Ethelton, single, lived with her parents at Leiston. Shewas twenty-seven years of age and had taught in the town forupwards of three years. She was well-thought of by her superiors.She was not keeping company with anyone. She was grave, studious,and of a quiet disposition. Her only out-door recreation waswalking, and she often went for long walks by herself.

On the night of her disappearance, she had announced to herparents that she would go out for some fresh air, and had lefther home about 9.30. No one in the town seemed to have noticedher, and consequently it was not known in which direction she hadgone. It was a moonlight night, but clouds were threatening andshe had taken her macintosh with her. It was certain she wascarrying no money, for her bag with her purse in it had been leftbehind in her bedroom.

She had not been missed until the next morning, for herparents, accustomed to her roaming expeditions, had retired torest as usual at 10 o'clock, leaving the front door unlocked.

There were no circumstances that could suggest to them anyreason for their daughter going away. She was their only child,she had no troubles that they were aware of, and was in perfecthealth.

She was quite well-off for she had more than £30 in thePost Office Savings Bank, and £200 on fixed deposit, in theSaxmundham branch of the East Anglian bank.

The plain-clothes officer, sent down from Ipswich, was of theopinion that if the going off were a premeditated one, then mostelaborate precautions had been taken to prevent it beingestablished as such.

Augustus Andrew Holden was forty-two years of age and had beenthe manager of the East Anglian bank in Saxmundham, where he hadtwo assistants under him, for upwards of five years. He wasmarried and had three children, two boys, aged eight and eleven,and a girl, six. He was apparently living on happy terms with hiswife, who was five years his junior. He resided over the bankpremises in the High Street, and there was a private entrance tohis house at the side.

He enjoyed a good reputation in the town and was respected byeveryone. He was a man of simple habits, golf being his onlyrecreation. He was invariably in good health.

He was in no financial trouble, and had a good balance at theIpswich branch of Lloyds bank. He had also £1,200 investedin Government securities.

He was regarded as a valuable and trusted servant of the headoffice of his bank in Norwich.

On the night of his disappearance, he had been writing aftersupper and then, just as Mrs. Holden was upon the point of goingto bed, he had remarked that he was suffering from a slightheadache, and would go for a brisk walk before turning in. He hadtaken a cap and stick from the hall and let himself out of thedoor, and that was the last that anyone had seen of him.

Mrs. Holden, retiring to bed, had at once fallen into a soundsleep, but awakening during the night and becoming aware that herhusband was not beside her, she had switched on the light andfound to her consternation that it was past three o'clock.

She had then immediately rung up the police station and,getting speech with the officer on night duty there, hadexplained what had happened and had insisted that a search shouldbe made at once. But as she could furnish no idea as to in whichdirection her husband had gone, nothing, of course, had beendone.

Later, she had stated that she had no idea how much money Mr.Holden had had upon him when he left the house, but it would nothave been much, she was sure, for it was never his habit to carrymore than a few shillings about with him at a time.

Samuel Baxter was 34 and had been the landlord of the YoxfordArms for just over three years. He was married to a woman abouthis own age and there was one child of the marriage, a girl ofsix. He was apparently quite happy in his married life.

The inn was a small and unpretentious one, but he did a goodtrade and, keeping a good table, on market days had always asmany customers as he could accommodate. He was one of the localbookmakers of the town and being of a happy, care-freedisposition, was liked by everyone.

The night of his disappearance, it had been noted by thosethen present in the inn that he had closed the bar sharp to thevery second of ten o'clock. Indeed there had been remonstranceupon the part of one customer that Baxter was turning them outbefore the legal time.

Then next, one of the two serving maids, an elderly woman, hadheard him go into the back yard as she was getting into bed andshe had told the police that it could not have been later thanfive minutes after ten.

Mrs. Baxter was out at the time, having gone to the talkies inthe town. She had, however, returned home a few minutes aftereleven and, not seeing her husband, she thought that he must havegone out, as he sometimes did, to have a chat with some friend.So she had gone to bed, and quickly falling asleep, had notawakened until the maid had brought in a cup of tea just beforeseven the next morning. Then she had been astonished to find thather husband was not in the bed alongside of her.

No information was then forthcoming in any direction as towhat had happened to Baxter. He had visited none of his friends,no one had seen him after he had closed the inn, and no traces ofany of his movements had been found anywhere.

It was remembered, however, by the Yoxford townspeople thatonce before, about eighteen months previously, Baxter had beenmissing for a week, and upon his return had given the informationthat he had been called suddenly to London upon importantbusiness.

Peter Rawlings was forty-five years of age and for twenty-twoof those years had been in the service of the present LordThralldom. For the last nine he had been his bailiff and had hadentire charge of the farms and lands attached to the castle. Heresided at what was known as the Home Farm, and his house wasabout a mile distant from the castle. The land belonging to LordThralldom was roughly 3,000 acres, and comprised arable land,pastures, plantations, marshes and a stretch of the sea-shore,and as Lord Thralldom was old and an invalid, the bailiff hadplenty to look after and was a busy man.

Rawlings was married and his wife was five years older than hewas. They had no children and kept one maid, a young woman oftwenty. They were supposed by everyone to be a happy andcontented couple.

The bailiff had the reputation of being a quiet, sober, andindustrious man, and financially he was in good circumstances. Hehad saved money. He lived a very uneventful life and had neverbeen known to take a holiday. He was most zealous in lookingafter all his master's affairs, but his chief interest wassupposed to be in the herd of pure-bred jersey cattle that LordThralldom possessed.

On the night of his disappearance, he and his wife had retiredto bed, as usual, about 9.30, but Rawlings had been very restlessand unable to get to sleep. Suddenly, just before eleven o-clock,so his wife judged to be the time, he had jumped out of bed, andhuddling on some clothes, had muttered something about somematter he ought to have seen to before going to bed. His wife hadbeen too sleepy to take much notice of what he had said, but shehad heard him pull on his boots and then go out through the backdoor. Then she herself had been unable to get to sleep andfinally, beginning to wonder what her husband had gone out for,and thinking that at any rate he had been gone long enough, shehad struck a match and found it was half-past twelve.

Then she had not gone to sleep at all and the hours going bywith no return of her husband, she had at first become frightenedand then hysterical. She had awakened the maid and the two womenhad sat together, waiting for daylight to come.

And when it had come, they could find out nothing. Nothing hadbeen heard or seen of the bailiff since.

As to what he had been wearing when he had left the house, hehad been only partially dressed, for he had just put his trousersand jacket over his pyjamas. There might have been a few oddshillings in his pockets but certainly nothing more.

That concluded the four reports. There was a note added by theChief Constable of Suffolk that the investigations in all fourcases had been of a most exhaustive nature, but that in not anyone of them had anything been discovered to furnish asatisfactory explanation for the disappearance.

Larose put down the reports with a frown. "Four very ordinarypersons," he remarked, "and it is difficult to conceive of any ofthem leading a double life, still," and he shook his head slowly,"you never can tell." He looked musingly out of the window. "Noone but our own selves can ever know the secrets of our ownhearts and, if we are honest, we must admit that moments havecome to us all when if we had followed our own inclinations, thelaw of the jungle would have been the only law we should haveobeyed. We have thought things we have never dared to write down,we have had longings we should never dare to express, and wehave"—he shook his head in annoyance—"but Gilbert,Gilbert, I believe you're a very bad man. All people are not likeyou."

CHAPTER IV. — THE SECRET OF THE MARSH

THE following morning just after ten, thedetective drove up in a small car to the house where RitaEthelton had lived in the little town of Leiston in Suffolk, justover a hundred miles from London.

The girl's mother answered his ring, and learning he had comefrom Scotland Yard, admitted him at once and led him into thesitting-room.

"But what is the good of your coming?" she asked tearfully. "Iam sure now that she is dead."

"But you would wish to know what had happened to her," saidthe detective gently, "and if, after all, it were anaccident?"

"Oh! it was no accident!" she exclaimed passionately. "Someonekilled her, and it's no good shirking the truth. I am sure of itbecause there is no place within miles of here where an accidentcould have occurred. I've gone over everything in my mindthousands and thousands of times."

"Well," persisted the detective, "if anyone did her anyinjury, you would like him punished for it, wouldn't you? No, no,I'm not going over all the old ground again," he said quickly,"but I just want to satisfy myself on one or two points."

"Then you don't think," said the woman with her facedarkening, "that my daughter went off with Mr. McHenry?"

"Not for a moment," replied Larose emphatically. "That's onlythe idle gossip of these little towns, and I don't believe thatany people really believe it themselves." He took the chair thatshe offered. "Now, Mrs. Ethelton," he went on in a sharp andbusiness-like tone, "the great difficulty that has presenteditself to everyone who has attempted to find out what happened toyour daughter that night, has been that they had not known whereto begin. They haven't had any idea in which direction yourdaughter went when she started for that walk."

"No," admitted the woman sadly, "there are so many ways shemight have gone. There was no particular walk that I know ofwhich was her favourite one. She was fond of them all."

"Well, Mrs. Ethelton," said the detective, "please listen tome very carefully and then perhaps we shall be able to pick upwhat the others missed." He spoke very slowly. "Now there isnothing that any of us do, in any moment of our lives, that isnot the result of some previous thought or act." He shook hishead. "We do nothing, as people call it, 'by chance.' Somethingalways decides what we must do. Something we have thought or saidor done, just before." His face brightened. "So let us put ourheads together and try to guess something of what were yourdaughter's thoughts in the last minutes before she went out."

"I wish I could," sighed Mrs. Ethelton, "but Rita was always avery reserved girl and no one ever knew what she was thinkingabout."

"Well," went on Larose again, "in these dreadful weeks youmust, of course, have recalled many, many times, every triflinglittle thing that happened that night."

"I can't tell from eight o'clock," said Mrs. Ethelton, "forRita was in her own room until half past. She came in here thento listen to the wireless. There was 'An hour with Chopin' on andshe had been waiting for it, because Chopin was her favouritecomposer."

"Her father and I were reading, and she brought in a bookherself. Then, I don't think any of us said a word for the wholehour until the music stopped. And then I remember Rita lookingout of the window for a few moments—the blind wasdrawn—then she got up suddenly and said she was going for awalk. Then she came over and kissed Dad and me."

"Yes, because Dad and I always go to bed directly the clockstrikes ten, and I suppose she was thinking she mightn't be backbefore we had gone upstairs."

"And she went out of the room then," said the detective,speaking very softly, "and that was all?"

"Yes," replied the woman equally softly and with a catch inher voice, "that was all. We never saw her again."

"Sir Walter Scott'sIvanhoe," was the reply. "It was afavourite book of hers and she had read it many times."

"And I understand," went on Larose, "from what you told theothers who have been here, that she changed her indoor shoes forwalking ones and went out in her mackintosh and a beret?"

The detective rose briskly to his feet. "And now, just onemore thing," he said. "I'd like to look over her room if Imay."

The woman's woe-begone expression changed instantly into afrown and, for the moment, she hesitated.

"Well, I suppose you may," she said rather reluctantly,"although no one has asked to go in there before." She sighed."It's just as she left it, except, of course, that its beendusted every day." Her voice choked. "I know she'll never return,but I hope against hope that she will."

She led the way into a daintily furnished little room at theback of the house and the detective stepped reverently over thethreshold. Then, for a long minute, he let his eyes roam allround, over everything. He took in the small, narrow bed, withthe counterpane of sky blue, the bright curtains draping thewindow, the pictures upon the walls, the tortoise-shell backedbrushes upon the dressing table, and the little simple ornamentson the mantleshelf.

He looked thoughtfully at the pictures and apparently wasparticularly interested in three large, framed photographs thathe saw. 'A Rough Sea at Aldeburgh' was printed under one,'Dunwich Cliffs' under another, and 'Thralldom Castle in theMoonlight,' under the third.

"So she was fond of poetry," he said gently. "Chaucer,Swinburne, Tennyson and Sea Music, and she liked history andnovels of an historical kind. Now, where is that Ivanhoe she wasreading when the music was on?"

Mrs. Ethelton indicated the book and Larose, picking it outfrom among the others, opened it where a bookmarker had been leftin. Then, to the woman's astonishment he pulled a chair forwardand sitting down, proceeded carefully to scan through the openedpages. It was quite a long time before he rose to his feet againand replaced the book.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "and now about that photograph,'Thralldom Castle,' I see. How far is it from here?"

"About two miles and a half," replied Mrs. Ethelton, "or alittle longer if you go round by the sea."

The woman threw out her hands. "She might have gone anywhere,"she exclaimed. "That is the dreadful part of it all."

The detective asked a few more questions and then, bidding hergood-bye, in less than twenty minutes was interviewing the bankmanager's wife in Saxmundham.

Mrs. Holden was still living in the bank house, as an act ofgrace, he learnt afterwards, of the bank authorities who werereluctant to accept as a fact that their trusted manager wouldnever return.

He found her a very different type of woman from Mrs.Ethelton, and rather difficult to make any headway with. Sheseemed to be resenting his coming, and every second to be waitingfor him to couple up her husband's name with that of the missingschool-teacher from Leiston. Her answers to his questions addedno further information to that he already had.

At his request, however, although certainly not without somereluctance, she took him into her husband's little private roomand, under her watchful eyes, he proceeded to look round. Henoticed a large old-fashioned telescope bracketed upon the wall,with the initials of "J.B.H." on its broad, brass end and at onceasked Mrs. Holden if it had belonged to her husband's father.

"No," replied Mrs. Holden, "to his grandfather, Captain JohnHolden. My husband's ancestors were all sea-faring people," sheadded, "and his own father was a captain in the P. & 0.Company. My husband, too, would have gone to sea, if it had notbeen for his eyes. He was very short-sighted as a young man, andit was a great disappointment that they wouldn't pass him."

"And you have not the very faintest idea in which directionyour husband started for his walk, upon that night?" askedLarose, following upon some further questioning.

"Not the very faintest," was the reply. "My husband was alwaysfond of walking, and knowing every road in the country for milesround, he may have gone anywhere."

The detective next went into the bank and obtained a briefinterview with the clerk who had been the second in command underMr. Holden's managership. He was a good-looking young fellow,John Harden by name, with a clear-cut profile and frank, open,blue eyes. He was quite polite but very firm in his assertionthat he could not help the detective in any way.

"And if you want to put it to me," he said warmly, "that thereis the slightest truth in the rumour that there was anything onbetween that girl in Leiston and Mr. Holden, then I'll tell youstraight, it's a lie. Mr. Holden was not that type of man andMiss Ethelton simply did her banking here, in preference to herown town because"—he looked very disdainful—"in theselittle country places everyone likes to poke their noses intoother people's business and I suppose, naturally, she did notwant hers known."

Larose visited the local police station and made a fewenquiries in the town but, the disappearance of the bank-managerbeing now five weeks old, almost all the interest seemed to havedied down and he got nothing for his pains.

But one thing struck him as peculiar. All that morning, notone single person he approached made any reference at all, eitherto the disappearance of the inn-keeper at Yoxford or to that ofthe bailiff of Lord Thralldom. Indeed, it seemed that they hadnot heard about them.

The afternoon found him in the pretty little town of Yoxford,and calling at the Yoxford Arms, he came upon Mrs. Baxter in thebar, which happened to be empty at the time.

She was a handsome woman of a rather florid type but her eyes,he thought, were rather hard. Directly she learnt who he was, tohis surprise, she gave him an annoyed and frowning look.

"I'm sick of you police," she said bluntly, "and I don't knowwhat you want by coming bothering me any more. I've toldeverything I know, and all of you round here are an incompetentlot. You've found out nothing and I don't want to have anythingmore to do with you."

"But, Mrs. Baxter," exclaimed the detective, very astonished,"surely you want to know what has become of your husband?"

"All in good time," snapped the woman, "and when I do know,I'm sure from your methods, that it won't come through any ofyou." She tossed her head angrily. "So, I'm not going toanswer any more questions, and if you want to know anything, youcan just go off to the police station here." She sniffedcontemptuously. "They've got all my answers written down."

The detective eyed her very sternly. "But you'll have to giveme an answer to every question that I put," he replied sharply."I've come down expressly from London and I want, too, to lookover the inn."

"Want to look over the inn!" gasped the woman in greatastonishment. "Why, do you think Sam's in hiding here?"

"Certainly not," replied Larose in matter-of-fact, business-like tones, "but I've come all the way down from Scotland Yardand I have to make a full report." He spoke most politely. "I'dlike to go over the place straightaway, please."

The woman hesitated and looked as if she were going to refusebut then, shrugging her shoulders in contempt, she called for oneof the maids to attend to the bar in her absence and led the wayinto the living parts of the inn.

The detective looked into every room, and noted from the gunsand fishing tackle upon the walls in one of them that SamBaxter's activities ran in more than one direction of sport. Heasked Mrs. Baxter several questions, but she replied in curtmonosyllables whenever possible, or else made her answers snappyand short.

In their common bedroom he came upon a large framed photographof a group of cricketers, and approaching it closely, herecognised the round, smiling face of the innkeeper amongstthem.

He made no comment but out again in the hall, asked suddenly,"And for what reason, in your opinion, did your husband go intothe back-yard that night? Can you think of anything he might havebeen wanting there?"

"Yes, lots of things," replied Mrs. Baxter flippantly. "Pigs,dogs, cats, fowls or even ducks down by the ponds."

Larose gave her up at last and proceeding to the policestation in the town, the sergeant-in-charge there showed him inneat handwriting, upon many pages of foolscap, all theinformation that had been gathered together and the detectivewent through it carefully.

"And why," he asked presently, "was Mrs. Baxter soantagonistic towards me? She was as uncommunicative andunpleasant as possible."

"I don't know, sir," replied the sergeant, shaking his head."She's only been like that lately. I think she's been upset by somany outsiders pestering her with questions. Not that I've everquite understood her," he added thoughtfully, "for she's been abit queer all the time. At first, as you have read, she neversaid a word about Baxter's disappearance to anyone, and for a fewdays everybody was told he was away on business. Then she camehere crying and said she was sure someone had murdered him andthen, this last week, she's shut up like an oyster, and been rudeto everyone."

"No reason at all," smiled the sergeant. "Just a woman'sintuition, she said." He shook his head. "But we didn't thinkmuch of it, for Baxter had gone off for a week once before." Hesmiled again. "Sam is a good publican and when he does go on thebooze, he boozes away from home."

"But his wife is keeping back something now," said Larosesharply, "and there must be some reason for her not wanting theenquiry to go on. It wasn't mere annoyance that made her soevasive with me just now. She was fencing the whole time." Helooked intently at the sergeant. "Was she supposed to be fond ofher husband?"

"Oh! yes, and she was!" was the reply. "She was very proud ofhim, too, for he was a popular chap. She bossed him about andkept him in order, but she was fond of him right enough, and onlyas late as yesterday, I saw her with her eyes heavy and swollenfrom crying."

"Nothing much," replied the sergeant. "The references he hadto put in when he applied for the transfer of the licence of thisinn both came from London, where he'd been a barman for threeyears."

"Well, ring up a place called Alfreton," said the detectivesharply, "and get me the police station there. Baxter was in theAlfreton Cricket Club in 1923, and we're sure to learn somethingfrom them. Be quick please, because I'm in a hurry."

"Alfreton's in Nottinghamshire," said the sergeant, "and itmay take a bit of a while to get through."

However, in less than ten minutes Larose was speaking to theAlfreton police, and was soon in possession of some interestinginformation about the missing inn-keeper.

Yes, they remembered Sam Baxter quite well. He had kept the'Wheatsheaf' public-house there six years ago, but the licencehad been taken away from him because he had been sentenced to twomonths' imprisonment for poaching. He had been known to be aninveterate poacher for a long time, but he had been very artfuland they had not been able to catch him. No, beyond that therehad been nothing against him. He had been a good fellow and verypopular in the town. He had married a London girl, SallyMatters.

Larose hung up the receiver and passed the information to thesergeant. "Now," he asked, "was Baxter given to poachinghere?"

The sergeant frowned. "Not that I know of," he replied, "forhe would of course have lost his licence here, as well, if he'dbeen caught." He reflected. "He might have been, for when I cometo think of it, he kept a very good table at his inn, and eitherrabbit pie or jugged hare were often on the bill of fare. Notthat he'd have had to poach for the rabbits though, for there'dhave always been plenty of farmers who'd have given him a day'srabbiting whenever he wanted it, but hares"—and thesergeant shook his head—"hares are a different matter, forthey belong to the gentry and the big landowners."

"But he kept dogs that would have coursed hares," said Larose."I saw a greyhound in the yard just now."

"It's not a pure greyhound," remarked the sergeant. "It's abit of a mongrel, but still it would run down hares rightenough."

"Sefton Park, or on the meadows adjoining Thralldom marshes,"was the prompt reply. "There are plenty of hares in both thoseplaces. But it'd have been a bit risky taking a dog nearThralldom Castle just now for, of late, there have been a numberof them poisoned there. Someone has been laying down strychninebaits."

The sergeant laughed grimly. "That's what we'd like to know.The Thralldom people say they know nothing about it." He lookedvery stem. "It's against the law, you know."

The detective asked a few more questions and then left, tomake his last enquiries, at the home of Lord Thralldom'sbailiff.

After a couple of miles or so, he arrived at the top of ahill. A wide view of the surrounding country spread itself beforehis admiring eyes and, almost involuntarily, he drew up to theside of the road, and switching off his engine, sat silent andenthralled, to drink in the beauty of the scene.

Only about five miles distant from the sea, between the hilland the glistening waters, rolled a wide and slightly undulatingplain, dotted here and there with farm buildings and littlegroups of cottages, and with a narrow river winding in and outamong the pasture lands.

But it was Thralldom Castle that dominated everything, and itsmajesty and beauty gripped him with delight.

It stood alone, in a wide clearing of its own, and like somegreat over-lord of the country-side, its massive heights were alandmark in every direction.

"What a glorious old pile!" he ejaculated, "and what a viewone would get from those battlements!" He sighed. "We havenothing like that in Australia and never shall have. Those daysare gone."

He soon found the bailiff's home, and directly she knew fromwhere he came, was welcomed thankfully by Mrs. Rawlings. She tookhim into what was obviously the best room, but the carpet therewas folded up and all the pictures and furniture stacked in onecorner.

"I'm moving," she explained with a choke in her voice, "andthe new bailiff is coming in to-morrow."

"But it's very sudden, isn't it," queried Larose, "with yourhusband——" he hesitated.

"Only gone a fortnight to-morrow," supplemented the womanquickly. "And it's very unkind of his lordship, and I don'tunderstand it, for"—her voice broke again—"we can'tbe certain yet that my husband is dead." She wiped away a tear."It's so unsympathetic."

"No, usually not at all so," was the quick reply. "He spokevery kindly to me when I went up to the castle last week, butsince then he's got to hear that I went to my old master, ColonelEdis, who's a member of parliament, and he's very angry about it.He told me not to go to the police for they couldn't get me backmy husband if he'd walked over the cliffs and got drowned which,he was sure, had happened, and he said any publicity wouldattract attention to the Castle and then people would come androb him of his pictures." She began to cry. "Of course he's veryold and ill, and can think of nothing but his pictures now." Sheclasped her hands together. "Oh! do you think, sir, that my poorhusband is really dead?"

"Sit down and tell me all that happened," said Larosesoothingly, "and then, we'll see what we can find out."

For upwards of an hour the detective questioned her, but atthe end of that time he had reluctantly to admit to himself that,once again, he had added little to the knowledge he alreadypossessed.

"You see, Mrs. Rawlings," he said at last, "if you could onlygive me some idea where your husband was going that night, thenwe should be able to start our search in some definitedirection."

"But as I say, I can't tell you," she replied tearfully. "Myhusband never talked to me about any of the business of theestate. He was a very reserved man and spoke very little at anytime and he had the idea, too, that all a woman's interestsshould be in the home. But he was a devoted husband to me and allour married life we have been very happy together. He never,however, brought his business worries to me at any time."

The detective thought for a moment. "And you don't know, then,what particular work your husband had been doing during the dayprevious to the night when he disappeared?"

Mrs. Rawlings shook her head. "No, he was busy the whole day,"she replied, "and I only saw him at meals, and then he waswriting all the evening."

The woman's face brightened. "Oh! yes, and I believe he putdown the minutest things that happened."

"Show me the diary, then," said the detective, and she at onceled him into another room and began looking among a number ofbooks and ledgers piled upon the table.

"Here it is," she said and Larose pulled up a chair, andsitting down, began turning over the leaves of the book she hadhanded to him. The scrutiny, however, was very short before hespoke to her again.

"What does that mean?" he asked, pointing to an entry underthe date of Saturday, September 16th. The entry consisted of twowords only, "Queen Guinivere," upon an otherwise entirely blankpage.

The woman smiled a wan smile. "We have a herd of Jerseycattle," she replied, "and Queen Guinivere is one of the cows.She was due to have her calf on that day. She is the matron ofthe whole herd and a valuable animal. She has taken lots ofprizes."

"And did she have her calf on that date?" asked the detective."Remember, it would be the day after your husbanddisappeared."

"Oh! no," replied Mrs. Rawlings, "not until the day beforeyesterday. Look, you can see them, if you want to. They are bothin the meadow there."

Larose walked over to the window. "And do you think it islikely," he asked, "that your husband went out that night to seeif she was all right?"

For a few moments, the woman stood silent. "It might be," shereplied, speaking very slowly. "Yes, it might be, for I know hewas rather anxious about her. She's getting old and nearly diedwith her last calf." She bit her lip in vexation. "I neverthought of that."

"And where would she have been that night?" asked thedetective, "if he had gone to her."

"In the same meadow where she is now," replied Mrs. Rawlings,"somewhere between here and the castle. The Home meadow, we callit."

"Now, another thing," went on Larose. "Poison baits are saidto have been laid about here. Do you know anything aboutthat."

"They've been laid," she replied slowly, "because several dogshave died and now no one dares to keep one on the estate." Sheshook her head. "But no one knows who lays them and it's been amystery to everyone for some time. It's very queer."

The detective made no comment. "And you have a lot of hareshere, I understand," he said after a moment. "Now whereaboutswould you find them?"

A long silence followed, and then Larose got up to bid hergood-bye. "I shan't be far away," he said, "for I'm going to stopfor a few days at that inn, there by the beach. Oh! I wasforgetting," he exclaimed. "Where will you be if I want to askyou any more questions?"

Her face brightened. "At Westleton," she replied, "and it'sonly a mile from here. Lord Thralldom has been very kind aboutthat and has given me a cottage and two pounds a week for as longas I live."

"Well, that's good," nodded Larose. "Good-bye," he saidsmilingly, "I'm sure to be seeing you again soon."

That night, as upon every night when he was engaged upon acase, Larose went very carefully over everything that hadhappened during the day and with a map of Suffolk spread outbefore him, began talking softly to himself.

"Well, I'll sort out all my cards," he said, "and just seewhat sort of a hand I have. Now what does it all mean?" He spokevery solemnly. "Within the space of a few short weeks these fourpersons, all residing within a few miles of one another and allin happy and comfortable circumstances have all disappeared offthe face of the earth, and I ask myself, from what I have learntto-day, am I dealing with four separate happenings, having noconnection or relation to one another, or am I faced with onemain problem, of which each of these four disappearances formonly a part?"

He punctuated every word slowly with his hand. "Is itreasonable to suppose that the same unaccountable urge came toeach of these four persons—to break all in an instant fromthe peaceful and settled order of their lives, to forsake kithand kin, father, mother, wife and children with no word ormessage of regret and no goodbye? To leave those who loved them,to be night and day, and day and night, torturing their brains asto what calamity could possibly have overtaken them?"

He shook his head emphatically. "No, no, I can rule that outat once. Upon the face of it, I can be sure the disappearances ofall these people were not voluntary. They were forced upon them.Something happened to keep them from returning to their homes andthat something"—he spoke in a whisper that was almostinaudible—"can surely only mean that they are dead."

He paused for a long time here before going on. "Yes, that isthe only way I must account for their silence, for their silencecan only be the silence of the grave." His tone became much morebrisk. "Well, what happened? Did they then all meet with somesuch accident that their bodies as a natural consequence havebeen hidden ever since from the gaze of human eyes?" He shook hishead again. "No, impossible. The coincidences would be toostrained. They were killed somehow. Yes, they were killed and thefact that no traces of any one of them have been found, suggeststhat they all came to their deaths in the same manner and by thestriking of the same hand."

He paused again as if to check up his thoughts. "Then, if thatwere so, surely the killer did not seek them all out individuallyin the vicinity of their own homes. He was not waiting at Leistonfor the school-teacher, at Saxmundham for the bank-manager, atYoxford for the innkeeper and here at Thralldom for the bailiff.No, no, they came to him, and it was upon some single, commonmeeting-ground that they encountered him and passed intoeternity. Each of them upon the night when they disappeared, bychance, came within reach of that uplifted arm, and it remainsfor me to find out when they set out upon their journeys; wheretheir paths eventually converged; and at which particular placethey all met with their mysterious ends." He was quite convinced."Yes, I am dealing with one main problem, and the fourdisappearances are part of a whole."

He considered for a moment. "So, I'll try and put myself inthe minds of some of those people upon the nights when theydisappeared, and see where their thoughts will lead me if, in mysubsequent actions, there be anything in common with them atall."

He settled himself back in his chair. "First, I am thatschool-teacher, and I am twenty-seven, and well among the yearswhen, if any lover were coming to me, he should have come by now.But I am plain and uninteresting-looking and no man has arrivedto give me those mad moments for which I crave. Oh, yes, I wantthem. I want them badly, for I am very romantic. I love all thebeauty in life. I love the sea, I love flowers and I lovescenery. I love poetry, too, of the romantic kind." He nodded; "Icould see how often that Tennyson of hers had been opened at'Idylls of the King.' In effect, I am a girl who must be findingmy unfulfilled womanhood very hard.

"Well, that night I am sitting with my parents and there is noconversation. I am reading, but the soft, sensuous music of thedivine Chopin is filtering through into my brain. I am readingIvanhoe and I have just come to that part,"—hefrowned—"now what were those lines in particular thatcaught my eye when I opened the book? Ah! I remember—'theyhurl the defenders from the battlements, they throw them into themoat'."

He shook his head and sighed. "But I close the book there and,for a little while sit thinking. Then what are my thoughts?Surely I am thinking of gay ladies and gallant knights, ofbattle-axes and shining armour, of a mighty castle with hightowers and towering battlements, and—Thralldom Castle atonce leaps up before my eyes."

His own eyes sparkled. "Of course it would, for all my life Ihave known Thralldom Castle, and night and morning in that largephotograph its grim walls have been always under my gaze. So thecastle in Ivanhoe becomes real to me and I picture it asThralldom is, and see them hurling defenders over battlementsthat are familiar to me, and into a moat that I know quitewell."

"Then I look out of the window and see the moon is shining."The detective made a muttered aside here. "There was some moonshining on each of the nights when those poor souls disappeared."He went on. "So all on the instant, I make up my mind to take awalk and then, what is more natural than that, with thesethoughts in my mind, I should turn my steps in the direction ofThralldom Castle?" He paused for a long moment. "Surely I shouldhave gone that way."

He leant back in his chair and sighed. "Guess-work, Gilbert,just guesswork and nothing more," he nodded his head grimly, "butfor all that you may not be very far astray."

His voice took on a sharp and business-like tone. "Now, fordisappearance number two, and I am the bank manager inSaxmundham. It is after supper and I have a headache. I have beenwriting all the evening and am not unnaturally tired. I think Iwill go for a walk. It will do me good and clear the cobwebs frommy brain. Well, where shall I go? It is just a walk that I want,and therefore, I suppose all directions will be the same to me.Ah! but will they? I was born by the sea and all my boyhood'srecollections are associated with the shore, the sands, the wavesand the breezes of the sea. My father was a sailor and his fatherbefore him and his father before that. So, I have the very saltof the sea in my blood, and what is more natural then than that Ishould turn to the sea when I am feeling tired—as a tiredchild turns to his mother in any distress? Yes, I'd take my walkin the direction of the sea."

He looked down at the map before him and went on. "And if Itake my walk towards the sea, by where will it lead me?" He spokevery slowly and deliberately now. "I shall pass ThralldomCastle"—his voice trailed away to nothing—"ThralldomCastle again!"

There was a long pause and then he shook his head. "A guess inthe dark, Gilbert, just a guess and yet"—henodded—"for all that, you may be dead on the spotagain."

He smiled. "Now, for disappearance number three, and I am SamBaxter, a merry-hearted publican and I shut up my bar sharperthan usual to-night. Punctual to the tick of ten, for I havesomething to do and I am in a hurry to get on with it. I put onmy cap and let myself out into the yard."

He screwed up his eyes and looked very puzzled. "Now what do Igo into the yard for? What could I be wanting there at that timeof night? I have gone there to get something and I am afterwardsgoing for a walk or upon an expedition of some kind for I havetaken my cap from the hall. Well, what am I wanting from theyard? There is no car, nor horse there. Nothing but sheds, withfowls, ducks, pigs and a dog. Ah! a dog."

His thoughts ran on. "Yes, I was a poacher six years ago, aninveterate poacher, so the Alfreton police said, and I supposeonce a poacher, always a poacher. So perhaps, I am going outpoaching to-night, and I have gone into the yard to get the dog.Well then, if I am going poaching, what am I going poaching for?Not rabbits—the sergeant ruled that out—and certainlynot partridges or pheasants, for they are out of season, andcould not be put on the public table, and again, I should not bewanting a dog to get them. Then, I must be thinking about hares,and that means that I am going either to Sefton Park orThralldom. Sefton Park or Thralldom," he repeated slowly, "and Ishall most probably choose Thralldom because it is a moonlightnight, and my inn is on the Thralldom side of the town, and so bygoing in that direction there will be less chance of anyoneseeing me with my dog."

The detective nodded. "And that brings me to Thralldomagain—always Thralldom." He looked very grave. "It may bethat I am only guessing again, but now the startling fact isemerging from my guesses that by deductions that are perfectlyreasonable, and by no undue stretching of the imagination, I amleading each of these three persons, the school-teacher, fromLeiston, the bank-manager from Saxmundham and the inn-keeper fromYoxford, all to the very spot where we know for certain that thebailiff himself disappeared. Yes, Thralldom lures them all totheir destruction; Rita Ethelton, because she is thinking of thecastle by moonlight; Augustus Andrew Holden because he and hisforebears have been all born by the sea, and Samuel Baxterbecause it is there he must go poaching for his hares."

He nodded his head again. "Yes, and if anyone had deliberatelyplanned a common meeting place for these three, where they wouldhave to travel the least distances from their several homes, hewould have chosen Thralldom, for Thralldom is the centre of thatcircle from the circumference of which they would have allstarted upon their journeys."

He went on. "So, I come finally to the case of Rawlings, and,in a way, his last movements present the smallest difficulty ofall, for if I cannot with certainty say he was going to visitthat much-prized matron of the Jersey herd, I can at least assumefrom his half-dressed condition that he was not going far awayfrom his home." He pursed up his lips. "But I can be prettycertain he was going after that cow in the meadow there, for ifhe considered the matter that was worrying him after he hadretired to rest, to be of such urgency that he felt compelled toget out of his bed almost in the middle of the night, then itundoubtedly suggests that he was going to attend to some livingcreature, and the fact that he took no lantern with him indicatesthat he was content with the light of the moon for whatever hehad to do"—he nodded for the third time—"which bringsin the meadow where the cow was again."

He leant back once more. "And if these four poor creatureshave met with some untimely and violent form of death, who but amadman could have inflicted it upon them, for what reason otherthan the sheer lust of blood could have urged him upon his pathof murder? It could not have been for money that they werekilled, for they practically carried none, and it could not havebeen for any feelings of personal animosity, for they all camefrom widely separated places and there was nothing that one canconceive, except pure chance, that could have brought them oneafter another, within reach of the wretch who assassinatedthem."

"Yes, Gilbert," he said, "to-morrow, it's a madman you've gotto start looking for, and you'll have all your work cut out tofind him. You have, however, two things in your favour. You knowthe exact date when this nice gentleman first startedbusiness"—his eyes glinted—"and you know the placeabout where he takes his walks at night." He fished his pyjamasout of his portmanteau. "So, to-morrow after supper you'll go outto try and meet him and say 'how-do-you-do.' You can be very niceand polite and all that, but I think first you had better shoothim in the legs."

CHAPTER V. — THE HALESWORTH BUTCHER

THE next morning Larose was early abroad anddriving into the adjoining village of Westleton, proceeded tointerview the village policeman.

Police Constable Plummer was fat and comfortable-looking andfrom his general appearance might easily, with no make-up at all,have just stepped off the stage from taking part in some old-timeblood and thunder melodrama.

He was heavy and ponderous in manner, with a big and ratherstupid face and very round blue eyes, but it was evident that heregarded with becoming gravity the responsibilities of hisposition as village constable, and so answerable to the Crown forall the crimes and misdemeanors of the one hundred and fifty andmore souls under his charge.

His uniform fitted him closely, and although the weather wasfar from being warm, he perspired freely. He lived in a smallhouse and seemed himself to fill the greater part of the littleroom in which he interviewed the detective.

He was duly impressed when he learnt who his visitor was, andregarded him stolidly, breathing hard.

Without disclosing in any way what his mission was, Larosebegan at once to enquire about the people in the district.

"Now," he said briskly, "what I want to know, Constable, isthis. Is there anyone in this neighbourhood who has thereputation of not being quite right; who is eccentric in hisways, amongst other things, is known to be in the habit ofroaming about alone, late at night?"

The policeman looked very solemn for a moment and thensuddenly a gleam of intelligence stirred in his face. "Yes," henodded, "I know the man you want," and the detective's heart gavea bound at the apparently so easy termination of his quest.

"The Reverend Finch answers to all these descriptions," wenton the policeman. "His mind is failing and he mutters a lot tohimself. He will preach for longer than an hour on Sundays untilthe people begin to walk out, and sometimes he is missing fromthe Rectory for hours at night."

The face of the detective fell. A clergyman did not seem verypromising, but still—still, he thought, one never cantell.

"A couple of hours and more," replied the policeman, "andquite half a dozen times lately, I've been fetched by Miss Finchat one and two in the morning to go and look for him."

"Oh! not very far," was the reply. "Never more than two orthree hundred yards. He's ninety-three next birthday and not toosteady on his pins."

The detective muttered a bad word, but his face betrayed nosign of his disappointment.

The policeman thought hard. "Young Pidgeon," he said, "butyou'd hardly call him a man. He's fifteen and mazed on fishing.He'd sit all night on Minsmere Jetty if his mother would let him,and his father often has to bicycle over and fetch him home."

The detective realised there was evidently going to be no cornin this mill, so he rose to his feet. "Well, Constable," heasked, "which doctor has the largest practice in thisneighbourhood?"

"Dr. Steven, of Halesworth," was the reply. "He's my doctorand if it's for rheumatism——"

"About eight miles," said the policeman. His eyes brightened."But if you want to see Dr. Steven you can catch him in thevillage now." He pointed through the window. "There's his carjust outside old Mrs. Rumbleton's. He's attending her forlumbago, but her sister died of cancer a couple of years or soback and everyone believes——"

But Larose bade him a quick good morning and hurrying out intothe street, was just in time to catch the doctor as the latterwas getting into his car.

"Can I speak to you for one minute, please, Dr. Steven?" heasked and the doctor, after one hard scrutiny of hisinterrogator, nodded a quick assent. The doctor was a keen,intelligent-looking man in the middle fifties, cleanshaven, witha good chin and a pair of very shrewd grey eyes. He lookedexactly what he was, a busy country doctor, sharp andbusinesslike and with no time to waste.

Larose told him who he was and showed him his badge. "I amvery sorry to trouble you, Doctor," he said, "but you may be ableto do me a great service. I need not mention," he added, "that Iam speaking to you in the strictest confidence."

"I am down here on a special mission," went on Larose, "and,in a sentence, I am looking for a man of deranged mind withhomicidal tendencies. Now, do you happen to know of anyone abouthere who answers to that description?"

The doctor regarded Larose with a grim smile. "If I did," hereplied, "I should get him put away at once, for I am amagistrate as well as a doctor." He shook his head. "No, I knowof no one like that."

"Nearly everyone. Two thirds of those under thirty I havebrought into the world and for half of them"—another deepsigh—"I have not yet been paid."

"And you can think of no one," went on the detective, "who,although outwardly normal in appearance, may yet be the man Iwant?"

"Well, are there any private asylums in the neighbourhood, orany doctors who have charge of private lunatics?"

"There is a private asylum at Beccles, about eighteen milesaway, and a practitioner in Framlingham has two certified casesunder his care." Dr. Steven smiled. "But these latter are bothold ladies, so I am afraid there will be nothing to interest youthere."

A short silence followed and then Larose asked. "Well one morequestion. Doctor, and then I am afraid I shall have finished.Now, is there anyone at present living in the neighbourhood who,to your knowledge, has at one time been in an asylum for theinsane."

Instantly then, the doctor's face hardened and looking verysternly at the detective, he replied quickly—"Now there,sir, you are asking a question I am not prepared to answer. I sayneither yes nor no to that for there are some things a medicalman may not divulge."

A great exultation thrilled through the detective's heart. Washe upon the trail at last?

"But, Doctor," he went on impressively, "what I am asking youmay be a matter of life or death, and if you refuse to tell me,you may be condemning yet another poor soul to a ghastly andbloody end."

The doctor opened his eyes wide in astonishment. "Then hassome murder been already committed in this neighbourhood?" heasked sharply. "I have heard of none."

Larose picked his words very carefully. "That for the moment,sir, is impossible to answer with any certainty, but I assure youthere are strong suspicions that more than one has been alreadydone." He spoke very solemnly. "We are looking for a man whosemental condition is such that he might be a murderer, and it isonly by lighting upon such an individual and setting a watch uponhim, that we can determine whether or not he has already takenlife, not once, but several times."

The doctor looked very puzzled. "I would help you if I could,"he said slowly, "but to put it bluntly I don't feel justified inexposing to your attentions anyone whom I, as a medical man,consider to be perfectly harmless."

"But, Doctor," persisted Larose eagerly, "it is exactly a manwhom everyone considers as perfectly harmless that I am lookingfor. A man who by day is perhaps just an ordinary respectablemember of the community, but who, by night, is a maniac andprowling about the country, as dangerous to all he meets as theangel of death. He may have bouts of mania, too, that only comeon at intervals, and in his sane moments may be quite ignorant ofall he does at other times." He spoke very sternly. "I am notappealing to you as an officer of the forces of law and orderonly, but in the name of a humanity common to us all."

A troubled expression came over the doctor's face. "You arequite eloquent, sir," he said, "and almost I feelinclined——No, no, I'll not tell you." He smiledpleasantly. "But at any rate I'll give you some good advicealthough you need not mention to anyone that it was I who gave itto you." He started his engine and let in the dutch. "Go and seeInspector Ferguson, in Halesworth. He may be able to help youwhen I can't." And away he drove with a friendly wave of hishand.

"Good!" remarked the detective as he climbed into his own car."Now, my instinct tells me I'm going to get something out ofthis." His face fell. "But I hope they don't put me on to anyonewho lives in Halesworth, for Halesworth is a good nine miles fromThralldom."

Inspector Ferguson, of Halesworth, proved to be a smart,intelligent officer and there was no hesitation about his answerwhen after due formalities of introduction had been effected,Larose put to him the question.

"Yes," he said, regarding his visitor interestedly, "I do knowof a man living here who, at one time, has been confined to alunatic asylum. The information, however, came to me quite byaccident and not in my official capacity, and I believe only oneother person in the town is aware of the fact. The man isRidgeway Turnbull and he is a butcher here."

The detective suppressed the excitement that he felt. "Well,tell me everything you know about him," he said sharply.

Inspector Ferguson had been well trained and, in the presenceof one of the reputation of Larose, asked no preliminaryquestions, but proceeded at once and with no appearance ofcuriosity, to impart all the knowledge he possessed.

"It happens I am well acquainted with him," he said, "for Icome from Saxmundham, near here, and we were boys together.Ridgeway Turnbull is forty-five years of age and was born in thevillage of Westleton, eight miles from here. His father was alabourer in the employ of the then Lord Thralldom, the uncle ofthe present one, and Ridgeway, as a boy, worked on the Thralldomlands too. He was a wild youth and gave his parents a lot oftrouble. At seventeen he ran away and went to sea and we heardnothing of him for six or seven years. Then he came home on avisit, with a girl whom he married. He had given up the sea andwas working for a butcher in London. Then we lost sight of himfor about ten years until he came to this town, and obtainedemployment as an assistant to one of the butchers here. He isprosperous now and a well-to-do man. He is a widower, having losthis wife the year before last. He has no children."

Larose listened with an intense thrill to the Inspector'srecital. Here might be the very man he wanted. One who had anintimate acquaintance with the Thralldom lands and whoseoccupation would have hardened him to the shedding of blood, andtended to make him callous to the suffering he wasinflicting.

The Inspector hesitated. "I cannot tell you that with anycertainty," he replied, "but it was not long before he came here,which would make it about thirteen or fourteen years ago. He wasin an asylum for more than two years and the information reachedme in a very curious manner. I play bowls, and so does he, andfour years ago I won the trophy and he was the runner-up. I senta copy of the local paper with all the details in about thematch, to an uncle of mine who is also interested in the game,and in acknowledging the receipt of the paper, my uncle asked whothe R. Turnbull was, because, he said, a butcher's assistant inForest Gate, of that name, and with that initial, had once beenput into an asylum after attempting to cut his wife's throat, andthe description he gave coincided exactly with the appearance ofTurnbull here."

"And who else knows about it in this town?" asked Larose. "Yousaid a second person had heard about it."

"Yes, Dr. Steven here," replied the Inspector. "Turnbull'swife told him about it, once when the doctor was called in afterone of her husband's heavy drinking bouts. I had taken Ridgewayhome that night and heard her telling him."

"Yes, he breaks out every few months and we've had to gaol himseveral times. He's been up before the magistrates twice thisyear."

"He passed you just as you were getting out of your car tocome in here," was the reply. "I was standing at the window andsaw you both in the same glance. He's a tall, gaunt man, with abig nose and a rather distinguished-looking face." The Inspectorsmiled for the first time and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Infact there's a little bit of scandal about his father'sparentage, for his father was supposed to be an illegitimate sonof the Lord Thralldom of that time, and there may be something init, for Ridge is not unlike the present lord."

"Well," said the Inspector judicially, "his grandmother was amaid once up at the castle and she left hurriedlyand—Ridge's father was born. At any rate, she had anallowance from some source she would never disclose, and whenRidge gets drunk he boasts he is a cousin of the present LordThralldom."

The Inspector looked amused. "You bet he does," he replied,"for I heard Ridge tell him so once openly to his face. LordThralldom was presiding on the bench that day, and Ridge was upas usual for being drunk, and when his lordship gave him ten dayswithout the option of a fine. Ridge shouted out that if a priesthad only mumbled a few words over his grandmother, he'd have beenthe Lord Thralldom now, instead of only a blanky butcher sellingchops and steaks."

They both enjoyed a good laugh, and then Larose asked. "Andwhat about the man's mental condition now? Does he show any signsof not being in his right mind?"

"And except for getting drunk then," went on the detective,"you have nothing against him?"

A short silence followed and then Larose asked sharply, "Doeshe go out by himself at night on a bicycle or in a car?"

The Inspector looked embarrassed and almost as if he had beenfound out in some misdemeanour himself.

"Yes, he does," he frowned, "in his car, and I've caught himtwice lately coming home without any lights."

The Inspector considered. "I can't tell you exactly," hereplied, "but the last time was about midnight, three weeks ago.No, it's no good. I'm sorry I can't give you the exact date."

The Inspector hesitated. "I really can't tell you that either,although we live almost opposite to one another. It's like this.His shop and my house are both about half-way up this hillrunning through the town, and if he wants to go out on the quietafter dark, he can just push his car out on to the road, and thenfree-wheel down and not start his engine until he's out ofhearing. Then, he can return home by another way and come intothe road at the top of the hill this time, so that by shuttingoff the engine again, he can just glide down into the yardwithout a sound."

The Inspector raised his eyebrows. "Oh! after some woman, Isuppose, and if he's of Thralldom descent that would be thenatural thing, for they've always been a gay lot," he nodded hishead, "and half mad too."

"Very," was the reply, "for his lordship always makes it hotfor him if Ridge comes up when he's on the bench, and when Ridgeis drunk he talks a lot about having his revenge."

A short silence followed and then the detective remarked:"Well, Inspector, I've no doubt you are wondering why I'minterested in the man."

"Naturally," smiled the Inspector, and he bowed, "for we don'toften get anyone of your reputation coining down into theseparts."

"It's about that bailiff of Lord Thralldom's I've come," saidLarose. "We are not satisfied up at the Yard with theexplanation, or rather the want of explanation, relating to hisdisappearance."

"And I should think not," said the Inspector decisively, "forit's most mysterious." He looked sharply at Larose. "What aboutthose other disappearances? Have you heard of them?"

Inspector Ferguson frowned. "I knew that Mr. Holden, ofSaxmundham, well, and he was a good fellow. I met him one eveningonly the week before he disappeared. He was going down to have abathe at Minsmere Haven, and he was making a short cut acrossLord Thralldom's land."

"Just by the Thralldom marshes," replied the Inspector, "andclose near a little plantation of larches where the ground beginsto rise. About 300 yards from the ruins of the old Priory. He wastrespassing of course." He smiled. "But we all trespass when wego near Thralldom Castle. It ought to belong to the nation, andpublic opinion is dead against all the notice boards that hislordship has put everywhere. People do no harm in crossing overhis meadows."

"Well," said Larose sharply, "I'm looking for a madman whoprowls round Thralldom at night and who attacks anyone he comesacross. That's the only theory I can form to account for allthese disappearances, and if I am right, I am pretty sure, forreasons that would take too long to tell you now, that they haveall occurred near Thralldom Castle itself."

The Inspector whistled. "What an idea!" he exclaimed. "I'dhave never dreamed of such a thing." He thought for a moment."But what about the bodies? No traces of any bodies have beenfound."

"All in good time," nodded the detective. He spoke sharply."Now about this Turnbull here. I want to go over his house. Howcan I manage it?"

"No, no, the last thing in the world," exclaimed Larose. "Imust go over it without anyone knowing. Not a soul must know I'minterested in the man. Now how can it be arranged?"

The Inspector snapped his fingers together. "You couldn't havecome at a better time. It's early closing to-day and Turnbull isplaying bowls this afternoon. There'll only be his housekeeper inthe house, and she will be going out to visit her sister who's inhospital with a bad leg. All you've got to do is to come over tomy place, wait until the coast is clear, and get into the housethrough the back door. I don't suppose for a moment that it willbe locked." He laughed. "Turnbull's a careless man, and besides,we are all supposed to be honest people about here." He shook hishead. "But of course this is going to be done unofficially. Imust know nothing about it."

"No, of course not," agreed Larose. He rose to his feet. "Andnow I'll go and have a close-up view of this descendant of theThralldom's. I suppose he'll be in his shop."

Larose parked his car behind the police station and proceedingto the butcher's shop, walked in and for want of somethingcheaper, ordered a pound of chops. He recognised Turnbullinstantly from the description the Inspector had given him. Theman was alone in his shop.

The butcher had a proud and not unhandsome face. His eyes werebig and fierce under bushy eyebrows and he had a high foreheadand a large mouth, with very tightly-closed lips. He was cleanshaven, his appearance being not unlike that of a priest. He gavehis customer a hard scrutiny as he came in.

"Nice weather," said Larose, and the butcher looked up fromcutting the chops and nodded. "Yes, very nice," he replied.

"We could do with some rain though," went on Larose, and thebutcher looked up and nodded again.

"How far is it to Thralldom Castle?" asked the detective next,and this time the butcher did not look up as he repliedquietly,

Larose left the shop in two minds. In one, he was disappointedthat the butcher looked so normal and matter-of-fact, and in theother, he was elated that the man had not stated correctly thedistance to the castle.

"Of course he would know," ran his exultant thoughts, "but hemis-stated it deliberately because he wanted to make out he tookno particular interest in anything about Thralldom. He evidentlynoticed me, a stranger to the town, going into the policestation, and is prepared to be careful about anyone whom he knowshas been speaking to the police." He smiled to himself."Therefore he has something to hide, and things look quitehopeful."

He had lunch at the Inspector's home, and then watched behindthe curtain of one of the front rooms for the butcher to goout.

"The bowling green is only just up the road," the Inspectorinformed him, "so Turnbull won't be taking his car."

Just after two, the butcher, dressed in a smart navy-bluesuit, came out and proceeded up the road, to be followed half anhour later by an elderly woman in a mackintosh, carrying a bunchof flowers.

"And that means," said the Inspector, "that she won't be awaylong. She's not dressed herself up as she usually does, and hasonly just slipped the mackintosh over her ordinary clothes. Now,off you go, Mr. Larose, and if you find the back door locked,which is not very likely, you are sure to find one of the windowsunlatched."

Waiting until the woman was well up the road, Larose strolledacross and slipped into the butcher's yard. The back door was notfastened and he was soon inside the house.

There were four rooms at the back of the shop and he at oncepicked out the two that belonged to the butcher. They were notover clean and very untidy. He soon finished with the bedroom,but in the other room there was more to interest him. It wasevidently used partly as an office and partly as a sitting-roomand in one corner there was a big desk with three good-sizeddrawers down upon each side.

"Now, what am I looking for?" he asked himself as he rapidlysurveyed the contents of the room. He made a grimace. "I reallydon't know."

There were a number of books upon a long shelf and they wereall piled anyhow, with no regard to shapes or sizes, one upon thetop of another; novels with highly coloured jackets, books onhistory and travel, Gibbon'sDecline and Fall of the RomanEmpire, Carlyle'sFrench Revolution, books on popularscience and a ten year's old edition ofBurke'sPeerage.

"Not an uneducated man by any means," commented the detective,"and that class of criminal is always the more dangerous." Hepicked up the Burke's Peerage and it opened, as if of its ownaccord, at the Barony of Thralldom. "So, so," he smiled, "thenour friend is evidently seriously of opinion that he comes of theThralldom stock."

He turned to the desk and began pulling out the drawers. Theywere crammed untidily with bills, receipts and stock reports.Five of them he glanced through hurriedly and then, coming to thesixth, he found that it was locked.

"Ah! now what's in this?" he remarked, and he took a smallbunch of keys out of his pocket and, one by one, tried to fitthem into the lock. But they were none of them of any use, soafter one quick glance round to see if there were anything moreof interest in the room, he ran out into the yard to the garage.The garage door was pulled to but not fastened in any way, and ashe slid it open, wide enough to pass in, a clucking fowl dartedthrough his legs into the yard. He searched quickly for a pair ofpliers and a piece of stout wire.

"Waste of time, probably," he muttered, as when back in thesitting-room again he was kneeling before the locked drawer, "butit's curious that only this one drawer of the six should belocked."

The lock was a common one and he had soon dealt with it toexpose to view, as in the other drawers, a mass of untidy paperspushed in anyhow.

"Still," he nodded, "there was probably purpose in the man'smind when he locked this drawer, and as a matter of routine, I'dlike to know what that purpose was," and he thrust his hand downamong the papers to feel round at the sides and bottom of thedrawer.

Instantly then the expression on his face became more intentand he drew out a small, flat packet from under all the papersand at the very back of the drawer. Its covering was justordinary newspaper folded several times, and dirty with traces ofoil upon it. Unfolding it quickly, he was staring at the numberplates of a car, with the inscription on them "AN-17151."

The figures had been evidently home-painted for they werestraggling and uneven and slovenly. They were well splatteredover with dried mud.

"Now, that's funny," he remarked, and after a few moments'thought, he laid them upon the floor and ran into the garageagain. There were two cars there. A meat delivery one and a Fordtourer. Their number plates were RF-2709 and RF-8421respectively.

"Whew!" he whistled, "then those are false number plates he ishiding in that drawer." He bent down and examined the fasteningsof the plates. "And it's the tourer that he uses them upon."

He spent five minutes in the garage and then returning intothe house, replaced the number plates where he had found them,and left everything as before. He next proceeded to the policestation and informed the Inspector of his discoveries.

"And the piece of newspaper they are wrapped in is a sheetfrom theIpswich Guardian," he said, "and it is datedAugust the 5th. That would be eight days before Mrs. Holden andthe school-teacher disappeared. From the look of the paper, theplates have been wrapped and unwrapped many times since it wasfirst brought into use, for it fits them now almost like a case,and folds of its own accord into their shape. The plates aremuddied, too, which shows that when he has been using them he hasbeen driving the car off the bitumen and in by-lanes."

"It looks fishy," commented the Inspector, "very. He's up tosomething right enough."

"And it's the tourer he's been using them on," continuedLarose, "for the nuts of the plates on the delivery van are wellrusted whereas those of the tourer have been oiled recently andunscrew easily, which explains the oily finger-marks on thepaper. There's another thing, too, that wants some explanation. Ilifted the piece of carpet upon the floor of the back of thecar,"—he looked impressively at the inspector—"andsaw unmistakable stains of blood upon the floor-boardsthere."

The Inspector shook his head. "But I shouldn't bank much onthat," he said, "for two or three times lately his van has brokendown, and the meat has been delivered in the tourer."

"No matter," said Larose, rather disappointedly, "at any ratewe've got enough to go on to make it desirable—if not in myinterests in yours—to set a watch upon him and find outwhat he's after."

"Certainly," agreed the Inspector, "but he's a sharp man, andwill be difficult to trail."

"Yes," said Larose, "for up to a certain point the more insanea man is, the more cunning he is." He took a map of Suffolk outof his pocket and spread it out upon the desk. "Now, we'll takeit for granted that he's not finished with those false number-plates of his, but will go on using them for the same purposehe's been employing them up to now, and we must trail him to findout what that purpose is. Well, of course, it's no good ourtrying to start following him anywhere near the town. We mustpick him up when he's a good distance from here, so that he willhave no idea anyone is interested in his movements and that beingso, if he is going to Thralldom, when is it likely he will firstturn off from the main road?"

"At one of those by-roads there," pointed the Inspector,"after he's got on to the Norwich-London road. About half a milethis side of Darsham, perhaps."

"Well, you have a man ready at Darsham, with a bicycle sayevery night for the next week, starting with to-night. Let him bewaiting where you can phone him and you keep watch this end andring up if Turnbull leaves his house. If he does leave, it shouldnot be later than ten o'clock and when there's a moon shining.Ten to eleven is the critical time when all these people havedisappeared, also, the maniac I have in my imagination neverworks in complete darkness. Then, if your chap gets a ring, hecan bicycle up this way and meet Turnbull, and he'll be a poorfellow if he doesn't find out which way Turnbull goes. Myself,I'll be on the look-out on the Thralldom lands every night, and Iought to hear his car if he comes anywhere near." He held out hishand to the Inspector. "But now I think I'll be getting back, forI want to take a walk round the castle lands before it gets dark.I am staying at the inn on Minsmere Haven and let me have a ringat once if the butcher starts out to-night. I'll wait at home onthe chance."

When the butcher came home for his tea that evening, hishousekeeper met him with some very disquieting news. "I foundthat white hen shut out of the garage when I got back," she said."I was rather late because I had met some friends at thehospital, and all her eggs were stone cold. Someone must havebeen to the garage and let her out, when I was away."

Her master was in the act of taking off his coat, but at herwords he stopped, with one arm out, and opened his mouth verywide. Then he went into the garage, and for a long while stoodstaring thoughtfully round.

"What's happening?" he whispered at last. "A man with a Londonregistration plate on his car, goes into the police-station andthen comes round to me for a pound of chops. He stares at me sohard that he forgets to pick up his change. Then someone comes inand lets the fowl out of the garage when we are both away." Hefrowned, "Yes, what's up?"

The detective had bad luck that afternoon, for he was delayedat Yoxford with a broken spring, and in consequence did not getback to Minsmere in time to make a survey of the land round thecastle as he had told the Inspector he was intending to do,before dark.

CHAPTER VI. — THE TRAIL OF BLOOD

THE following morning Larose, leaving his car inthe garage of the inn, went for a three hours' tramp, circlinground Thralldom Castle in every direction, but never going muchfarther than a mile away from it. Once, he approached to within afew hundred yards, and only desisted from a very closeinspection, because of the many warning notices he saw displayedeverywhere, that trespassers would be prosecuted.

"A most exclusive old gentleman," was his comment upon thelord of the castle, "and perhaps it is a good thing that his lineis dying out. Surely a castle like this should belong to thenation and not to any particular individual."

Still, he had a pair of good binoculars with him and taking upa comfortable position against a fence, he sat back and, for along time, took in the beautiful proportions of the castle. Thelonger he regarded it, the more he was inclined to appreciate itsloveliness. "Yet, upon what violence, what cruelties and whatbloodiness has it looked down," he murmured, "and who dare say itis not now looking down upon more bloodiness, still?"

He returned to the inn in good time for the midday meal, andproceeding first into the bar for a glass of ale, found a coupleof fishermen likewise intent upon refreshing themselves. Henodded good-day to them and then, taking his tankard with him,moved off to a long wooden form by the window, leaving thefishermen to continue their conversation with the landlord.

Presently the door of the bar was pushed open and a fourthcustomer appeared. He was a tall, thin man with a meditative,gloomy face, but upon every stitch of his attire was written'holiday-maker.' Thick woollen stockings covered his lanky legs,and he wore baggy trousers and a short jacket. A big tweedgolfing cap was pulled down low upon his forehead and he carrieda thick, hefty-looking walking stick.

He was standing at the counter of the bar with his back turnedtoward the detective when Larose first happened to catch sight ofhim.

The latter thoughtfully regarded the lanky figure for a fewmoments and then frowned in a puzzled way, for some chord ofmemory had subconsciously been stirred in him.

The man received his tankard and turning round, walked up tothe bench where Larose was, and seated himself at the other end.In the act of sitting down he nodded a casual good-day, followingit up at once, however, with a slow and solemn wink.

"Naughton Jones!" gasped Larose. "The greatest privatedetective of the age! The cleverest and yet the most conceitedworker in the trade! Now what on earth is he doing down here, gotup like that?"

But it was evidently not the desire of the great Jones that heshould be spoken to, for he now turned his face away and puffedsteadily at a big pipe.

"Dinner is ready, sir," called out the landlord a minute ortwo later, and Larose, rising leisurely to his feet, proceeded topass out of the bar. When, however, he was just level withNaughton Jones, he stooped, and bending down to adjust abootlace, at once received a communication as he had expected hewould.

"I'll be outside in half an hour," came from the half-closedlips of Naughton Jones. "Follow me, at a distance. It'simportant."

And so, accordingly, half an hour later, Larose was followingin the wake of the lanky holiday-maker who walked about a hundredyards in advance.

Jones led the way round a corner of the cliffs and when theyhad gone about a quarter of a mile and had lost sight of the inn,he sat down upon the beach and beckoned to the detective to comeup to him.

"Good-day, Mr. Larose," he said with a dry smile. "I'm pleasedto meet you again. I had my eye on you the day beforeyesterday."

"Yes," went on Jones carelessly. "I saw you pull up at Mrs.Rawlings'. I was in the small plantation near there, watching thehouse." He laughed slily. "I thought there was just the chancethat Gilbert Larose would be turning up, for it has been shoutedall round the country that she had applied to Scotland Yard." Helooked hard at the detective. "You've been sent down on a specialmission, have you?"

Larose nodded. "Yes," he replied quietly. "I've come down totry and find out what happened to the bailiff."

"And I'd like to know too," commented Jones dryly. "I'd likevery much to have a little talk with that gentleman."

"So you're interested too, are you?" said Larose. He spoke asif with great respect. "May I ask how it happened you have comedown?"

"You may ask," replied Jones curtly. He appeared to considerfor a moment and then added, "And I see no reason why I shouldnot tell you. In fact," and he smiled quite genially now, "I havebeen thinking that you might, perhaps, be of some help to me. Idon't forget you proved very useful when we were hounding downthe racketeers of Ephraim Smith."

Larose suppressed a smile. "I always try to do my best, Mr.Jones," he replied, "but of course I have not had yourexperience."

"No," commented Jones grandly, "for you're younger than I amand experience can only come with age." He went on a quick crisptone. "Now, I'll tell you what I am down here for. I am acting onbehalf of a Mrs. Baxter, whose husband kept the Oxford Arms, fourmiles away." He looked sharply at Larose. "You have heard,perhaps, that he disappeared three weeks ago?"

The detective drew in a deep breath, and it was with a greateffort only that he managed to suppress an exclamation ofsurprise. He composed his features, however, to a calm and casualexpression.

"Yes," he nodded, "I heard that he could not be found." He putup one hand to cover a yawn. "Do you know anything abouthim?"

"Only that he's dead," snapped Jones. "Murdered on thesemeadows here and within a mile of where we are sitting now."

This time Larose made no effort to suppress his surprise."Dead!" he exclaimed incredulously. "Murdered! Good God! Are yousure?"

"Well, I found his cap," replied Jones, smiling grimly at theconsternation in the detective's face, "and it had been full ofblood. It had a great slit in it and sticking to the edges of theslit were scalp, brain tissue and sandy-coloured hairs. Baxter'shair was sandy and he had undoubtedly been killed with a chopper,or an axe of some kind."

Accustomed as he was, by his life's work, to horrors of allkinds, the detective nevertheless experienced a feeling of nauseaat the words so glibly spoken, and he swallowed hard, severaltimes.

Naughton Jones settled himself comfortably back upon thebeach. "Well, I'll begin from when I first took up the case. Ihad——"

A cloud passed over the face of the great investigator. "No,"he admitted reluctantly. "I have not thought it wise to informher yet." His expression brightened a little. "In fact I amwaiting by express purpose, for I am hoping to present both headsupon the same charger, her husband's and that of hisassassin."

Larose made no comment, and after an impressive pause, Joneswent on. "Eight days ago, I had a call from this Mrs. Baxter tofind her husband for her, but I should not have thought of takingup the case, for I am very busy, had she not reminded me thatlast year I was instrumental in getting a cousin of hers fiveyears for burglary, and she seemed to think that gave her acertain claim on me. So, upon consideration, I complied with herrequest."

He looked very stern. "I told her, however, straightaway, tohave no further dealings with the official police, and on noaccount to mention to anyone that I was investigating the matter.If she did, I warned her, I should return to London immediately.I also enjoined her that if any of the police called again, shewas to refuse to answer any of their questions."

Larose frowned and seemed upon the point of making some sharpcomment, but he thought better of it, and with a half smileturned away his eyes.

"Now," continued Jones in sonorous tones, and as if he were aschoolmaster addressing a class, "when I take up a case I alwaysinsist upon no half confidences. I demand entire confidence fromthe party calling me in, and with Mrs. Baxter it was particularlyfortunate that I did so, for I learnt at once that she had letfour days pass before informing anyone that her husband wasmissing, and I at once wanted to know the reason why. She wasreluctant to tell me at first, but at length I dragged from herthat he was given to poaching, and had indeed once served a termof imprisonment for that offence and it was her belief that hewas out again upon such an expedition the night hedisappeared."

"You must understand, of course, Mr. Larose, that poaching isa serious offence with anyone in Great Britain, but doubly so inthe case of a publican, for to hold a license of a hotel orpublic-house in this country a man must be of exemplary characterand with no history of any bad conduct against him. So we canquite understand why Mrs. Baxter had not dared to broadcast hersuspicions at the time, even though they might materially havehelped the authorities in their investigations. She was hoping,too, on the other hand, that her husband might possibly have goneoff upon a drinking bout—he had done that several times inthe nine years of their married life—and there again, shewanted to hush things up as much as possible."

"Well, having got this far, I probed for the reason why shethought her husband had gone poaching, and learnt she was of thatopinion, because firstly, she had noticed him mending an old dogleash in the afternoon, and it was no longer to be found upon thepremises, and secondly, because the greyhound or lurcher, orwhatever kind of breed the animal is, had been found unchained inhis kennel the following morning, which was most unusual, andmoreover, he had been very tired and stiff all the succeedingday, as if he had had a hard night's work. Added to that, thebeast had refused all food as if he had recently had asurfeit."

Jones nodded solemnly. "I thought over everything well, andcame to the conclusion that the deductions were quite sound andthat therefore, the next matter for me to consider was where thepoaching had been done. I was of opinion pretty soon that Baxtercould have only been going after hares, because he had taken thelurcher with him, obviously with the intention of running themdown, and I straightaway started upon discreet enquiries in thetown as to where most hares were to be found."

He paused for a moment again and Larose asked curiously, "Andyou picked upon Thralldom at once, Mr. Jones?"

Jones looked very pleased with himself. "No, no," he smiled,"and there, Mr. Larose, I flatter myself upon a very prettylittle piece of reasoning." He lifted one long forefinger. "Thereare several places around Yoxford where hares can be found, but Iwas emphatically warned by a richly-complexioned individual, towhom I supplied certain forms of liquid refreshment, and who wasundoubtedly of opinion that I was going to indulge in a littlepoaching myself, above all places to avoid Thralldom for there,he averred, poison baits had been extensively laid down."

"Go on," said Larose, for the great master was tantalisinglymaking a long pause.

"Well," smiled Jones, "I at once thought of that dog-leash andhurried back to Mrs. Baxter to question her about the dog. It wasa most obedient animal, I learnt, and would follow and alwayscome to heel. Then where was the necessity for the leash? I askedmyself, unless——" and he nodded his headsignificantly—"it were needed to keep the dog close to hisowner's side so that no poison baits should be picked up on thejourneys to and fro? In effect, so that the animal should onlyhave his head free when in actual pursuit of a hare."

"A most sound piece of reasoning, Mr. Jones," commentedLarose, "and it seems so simple when you explain it."

Naughton Jones smiled with appreciation at the compliment andwent on briskly, "So to Thralldom I came, and I spent four harddays among these meadows, these plantations, and these marshesgoing carefully almost yard by yard, over the ground." Hefrowned. "I received several rebuffs, and three times was warnedaway by different employees of Lord Thralldom, but I invariablyreturned from another direction a few minutes later, and in theend, I obtained my reward. I found the cap by the end of a smallplantation of larch trees, about a quarter of a mile from thecastle itself."

Naughton Jones smiled again. "Quite sure," he replied. "Hiswife had given me the description of the only cap that wasmissing, and besides, it had his initials 'S.B.' in the lining,in indelible blue pencil. It had evidently been blown under thebush when I discovered it."

"None whatever, and there was nothing to show that Baxter hadbeen killed within a hundred yards of the plantation. From thebloody condition of the cap, a lot of blood must have been spilt,but I could see no sign of it anywhere about." Jones shook hishead. "But that is not to be wondered at for it was exactly threeweeks to the day after Baxter disappeared that I found the capand there had been several rainy days in between."

"But the body!" exclaimed Larose. "If Baxter were killed asyou say, it must surely have been hidden somewhere near?"

"Not necessarily," smiled Jones. "It may have been carried along way, with the cap falling off at any moment of thejourney."

"But who would have gone to the trouble of carrying the body along way?" asked Larose bluntly. "Once the man was dead, surelythe murderer would have cleared off and left the body where itwas?" He looked with hard intentness at Jones as he put thequestion and almost as if he had no belief in his own suggestion,but were only desirous of learning what the other's opinion mightbe.

"No, no," replied Jones quickly, "and that is just my point."His face grew very stern and he spoke in a slow and solemn tone."Whoever killed Sam Baxter was not content only that he hadkilled him but he also held that it was necessary that nothingthat had happened should be known. He was killing upon ground towhich he desired no suspicion should be drawn, for"—andhere Jones paused dramatically—"it was in his mind that itmight be necessary for him to kill there again."

The heart of the detective was beating rapidly, and once morehe had to mask from his face all indication of what was passingin his mind. So, this pompous and long-winded pedant, with hispetty and laughable conceits, was nevertheless trailingunerringly upon the very path that he, Larose, had been imagininghe, alone, had picked up!

"Yes," went on Jones calmly, "and in my opinion we have amadman here and I know who he is."

"James Augustus Rawlings," was the instant reply. "He cameupon Baxter poaching, but thought Baxter was there to injure hisblessed cows. That's the whole thing in a nutshell."

A long silence followed and then Jones dropped into sonorousacademic tones again. "The human mind, Mr. Larose, is at timesthe victim of its own marvellous evolution for its weakness liesin its very strength. Concentration in any particular andstrictly definite direction is always prone to induce a conditionof morbidity, a pathological——"

"But have you the very slightest evidence," broke in Larosesharply, "that Rawlings had anything to do with Baxter's murdereven if it be, as you say, that Baxter is dead?"

Naughton Jones held up his hand. "Listen, Mr. Larose. It isnow three days since I found that cap, and I have not been idle,indeed, I do not think I have ever worked harder in all my life.I have enquired into the private histories and dispositions ofmost of the responsible people about here, and this is what,amongst other things, I have found out." He spoke in naturaltones now. "Rawlings is a quiet and taciturn man, andpassionately devoted to all his duties. He is thorough ineverything, but is not liked because he is hard, cold andunsympathetic in his dealings with everyone outside his home.Lord Thralldom, a weak old man, and thinking of little now excepthis paintings, leaves all the management of the estate to him andthe bailiff does pretty well everything he likes. His word islaw. Well, his one passion in life appears to be a herd of Jerseycows. It is his obsession and, to the exclusion of everythingelse, it is the only thing he loves. He has been very successfulwith them, and the Thralldom strain is spoken of wherever mentalk of cattle, and at all the Agricultural Shows, when a beastis entered in his name, Lord Thralldom is invariably a prize-winner."

"Go on," said Larose, because Jones was exasperatinglystopping to fill his pipe again.

But Jones was not to be hurried, and not until the pipe waswell alight would he condescend to continue.

"Now, Rawlings is quite aware he is not popular, and, of late,he has come to the idea that, to spite him, people are on thelook-out to injure his cows. He has been heard to state that toseveral, and to prevent any dogs coming on to the estate, he hasbeen laying strychnine about. He denies it, but his denial is notcredited. Well, just now he has been very much on his toesbecause the pride of the herd, a beast known as Queen Guinivere,is calving and he is certain that many of his enemies would liketo get at her. So, what does he do?"

"He takes to roaming about at night. He stalks the meadows,the cliffs and the marshes. He——"

"Because several lots of people have seen him and it can becorroborated. Not single individuals, I tell you, but groups ofpeople. Four men and a woman met him about three weeks agotowards midnight, when they were coming back to Dunwich fromSaxmundham. Two couples met him last Sunday night, nearThebarton, and this week, no later than Tuesday, half a dozenglee-singers passed him as they were going to Darsham."

The face of Larose was the very picture of astonishment. "Didthey speak to him?" he gasped.

"But his wife never mentioned to me," said Larose frowning,"that he ever went out at night."

"Did you ask her?" demanded Jones, and when Larose shook hishead, the great investigator rapped out, "And perhaps she didn'tknow. Do they sleep in the same bed? Did you make sure ofthat?"

"No, I didn't," replied Larose, now beginning to look annoyed."I never went into their bedroom, and it would have been of nouse if I had. She was moving out late yesterday afternoon and theplace was all upside down." He spoke very sharply. "But, goodheavens! if the bailiff is still alive, then what on earth has hedisappeared for?"

Jones looked very mysterious. "That's what I want to know," hereplied. "My personal opinion is that he has gone mad and hasjust pretended to disappear, in the expectation of the moreeasily catching one of his enemies in the act of attacking hiscows."

"Well, his master thinks he's dead," said Larose bluntly, "forhe has appointed a successor to him." He rose to his feet. "Well,at any rate, I intend going up to the castle to see LordThralldom this afternoon and then I'll be able to tell you whathis opinion is of his late bailiff, but I'll go and have anothertalk with Mrs. Rawlings first." He looked sharply at Jones. "Butif Rawlings killed the innkeeper, what did he do with thebody?"

"Buried it," replied Jones promptly. "I am now looking for agrave upon the ploughed land. I can find no trace of recentlyturned earth anywhere in any of the plantations." He nodded. "Iwas suspicious of the castle moat until I learnt that it iscleaned out periodically, and the last occasion was not threeweeks ago. They open a sluice gate and the moat empties itself onto the marshes. Then it is filled again by water pumped from theriver. It is one of the present Lord Thralldom's fads to keep thewater always fresh, and a very good fad too. He had the pipeslaid down some years ago."

They walked slowly back in the direction of the inn and then,suddenly, Naughton Jones swept his arm all round upon the landsof Thralldom.

"A beautiful scene, is it not, Mr. Larose?" he remarked. "Allpeace and quiet and the tranquillity of the smiling countryside,"he shook his head frowningly, "and yet I am sure that at thepresent moment it shelters forces of evil that do not meet theeye." He lowered his voice. "There are some queer people abouthere, I tell you." He pointed with his hand to an old house,close down upon the shore. "Now there are three birds livingthere that are interesting. One is an American—I have heardhim talk—and he is a purposeful, bustling type of man thatlooks quite out of place down here; a second is supposed to behis servant, but he has the cut about his jib of a house-breakerto me, and to the third I have given the time of day four or fivetimes upon the marshes, andhe always looks at me with asort of look 'I am up to some fishy business and what are youhere for?'" Naughton Jones sighed. "I listened under their windowlast night, but it was well shut down, and all I got for my painswas a torn stocking and some tar upon my clothes."

Larose smiled. "You are always so energetic, Mr. Jones. Do younever allow yourself any rest?"

"I have so trained my subconscious mind——" beganJones grandly, and then suddenly he clutched his companion by thearm, and pointed to a man coming towards them upon the sands."Quick, quick," he exclaimed, "isn't it that fellow Croupin?"

"Yes, Raphael Croupin!" ejaculated Larose. "So it is. Ourlively colleague from Paris!"

"Quick, down under this groyne," commanded Jones sternly. "Hemayn't have seen us and may pass by," and almost dragging thedetective with him, he darted behind a big, wooden groyne, one ofthe many erected there, to stem the inroads of the sea.

"Our lively colleague from Paris!" he went on sneeringly, asthey were crouching upon the stones. He looked very sternly atthe detective. "Do you know, Mr. Larose, I have thousands oftimes regretted my association with that man in the assistance Igave to Ephraim Smith last year? It detracts from my self-respectto think that I ever worked, side by side, with a thief."

"But he was a great help to us, Mr. Jones," said the detectivegently, "and personally, he is a pleasant, likeable fellow."

"But a thief!" exclaimed Jones, "a self-admitted thief. A manwho in his own Paris has his own organisation of crime." Helaughed scornfully. "And just because he is good-looking in hissimpering way, and comes from aristocratic forbears, and stealsonly from the very rich, and broadcasts his successful thievingsfrom the housetops, and has amorous intrigues with silly women inSociety," he shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, "he is theidol and joke of all France, and of that France I should say whowould be great rogues themselves if they had the courage and thebrains." He pressed hard on the detective's arm. "But look out,here he comes."

The man, whose demerits Naughton Jones had been soenergetically discussing, reached to within a few paces of wherethey were crouching, and then stayed his steps and stood quitestill, looking out over the sea.

As Naughton Jones had said, he was certainly good-looking. Ofmedium height and slight in build, he had wavy chestnut hair andnicely chiselled features. He had an aristocratic, aquiline noseand a sensitive, refined mouth. His dark eyes were large anddreamy, and shaded with long lashes. Indeed, he was as pretty asa woman except for the firmness and virility of hisexpression.

For quite a long while he stood gazing upon the sea, as ifdrinking in to the full the beauty of its rolling waves. Then hesighed and was about to continue upon his walk, when his eyesfell upon the two figures crouching under the groyne. He justgave a careless glance but suddenly, then, looked very puzzled,and finally his face broke into a radiant smile and he cameforward quickly with outstretched arms.

"My friends!" he exclaimed in perfect English and speakingwith only a very slight accent. "Gilbert Larose and the greatMeester Naughton Jones! Oh! but I am pleased to meet you."

"How do you do, Monsieur Croupin?" said the detective,smiling, and he at once took the hand the Frenchman proffered andshook it warmly.

Jones, however, kept his arms close to his side and made nomovement to shake hands. "Good day, Mr. Croupin," he said withmarked disfavour in his voice. "I did not expect to meet youagain in England." He eyed him quickly up and down and addedrudely, "But I notice you are not attired after your usualfashion."

Croupin opened his eyes wide, as if very surprised, and thenwith a worried look proceeded to glance down over hisclothes.

"But I am all right," he said wonderingly, "all good Englishclothes. Everything bought in London."

"But they are black," persisted Jones, with a sour smile."Where is your cravat of peacock blue, your vest of rainbowcolours and the buttonhole of the philanderer?" He laughedsneeringly. "Your whole get-up is less of the style of theseducer, Mr. Croupin."

"Oh! Meester Jones!" exclaimed Croupin reproachfully, "and Iam thinking of joining the Young Men's Christian Association. Ihave been pressed by several clergymen to do so."

"Well, what are you doing here?" asked Jones truculently andas if it were his right to know. "Up to no good, I am sure."

The Frenchman looked aggrieved. "I am on holiday, just onholiday in your beautiful country." He grinned confidingly. "I amtoo popular just at present over the sea, and my company is toomuch desired in my beloved Paris." An idea seemed suddenly tostrike him, and he looked with interest at the great Jones. "Butyou, Meester Jones, what has happened to you? You are dresseddifferently now"—he spread out his hands—"and youlook less like a bloodhound. You——"

"Oh! staying!" ejaculated Croupin apparently in no wiseaggrieved at being so unceremoniously interrupted. "I am stayingat Southwold, ah! and that reminds me." He glanced at his wristwatch and then whistled in dismay. "Oh! I have to be back at fouro'clock. There is a Mission Service on the sands then and I am tolead the singing of the hymns." He raised his hat hurriedly, witha grand flourish and then, with the suspicion of a wink in thedirection of Larose, called out "Good-bye, good-bye," and turningupon his heels made off as quickly as he could.

"A natural rogue!" remarked Jones with a scowl following theretreating figure with his eyes, "and upon another thievingexpedition, without doubt." He nodded his head viciously. "At anyrate, I'll make some enquiries in Southwold to-night."

The two parted a few minutes later, with Jones enjoining uponthe detective to meet him on the morrow at the same place, andinform him as to the result of his interview with LordThralldom.

Returning to the inn, Larose took out his car and drove intoThebarton to have a few words with Mrs. Rawlings. He was veryperplexed about the discovery Naughton Jones had imparted to him."But if Rawlings be still alive," he argued to himself, "and ifhe is the madman I am looking for, then where does thatHalesworth butcher come in?" He shook his head. "But it does notseem feasible to me that the bailiff could have been leading thatdouble life without his wife having had some suspicion about it,and she is certainly in the dark, for her distress is genuine,and she is not a woman who could play her part in a conspiracylike this. She is genuinely grieved, too, at being turned out ofher house." He tossed his head contemptuously. "And if she knowsher husband to be still alive, why was she at such pains toobtain the intervention of the Yard."

He found Mrs. Rawlings in her new home, and asking her at onceif her husband were in the habit of going out at night, shereplied most emphatically, "No." She admitted, however, that theyhad always occupied separate beds, and indeed that she was not alight sleeper, but she scoffed altogether at the idea thatRawlings could have gone out more than once or twice without herhearing him.

"Besides," she said in conclusion, "I know every pair of bootshe's got, and clean them all, so if he had been going out atnight, I should have noticed it, at once." And the detectiveparted from her, more puzzled than ever.

CHAPTER VII. — LAROSE AT THRALLDOM CASTLE

JOHN HARDEN was certainly no laggard in love. Hehad seen Ann Devenham often at the bank, had met her twiceoutside, had danced with her seven times, and was convinced thatshe was the most beautiful and wonderful creature in all theworld. Also, he was certain that she had not resented that lastfinal pressure of the hand that he had given her upon the nightof the Shire Ball, and almost, he thought, and his heart beattumultuously at the idea, she had in a gentle way returnedit.

He was in no wise deterred by the knowledge that she was arelation of the great Lord Thralldom and he only a bank clerkupon a salary of £5 a week, with his father a strugglingdoctor in the East End of London. It was sufficient to him thatshe was a woman and would one day, he knew, be he rich or poor,noble or otherwise, respond to the advances of a lover.

So that bright afternoon found him tramping over the Thralldommarshes to the castle, to obtain speech with her again, hisexcuse being that he was bringing up some books they had beendiscussing at the last dance. He had written her that he might bepassing, one day, and would leave them for her.

He was striding along full of his own thoughts, wondering ifshe would be at the castle, how she would meet him, what shewould say, and what sort of reception he would get for hisenterprise from Lady Deering and the great Lord of Thralldom,when gradually he became aware that a motor car was coming upbehind him and, turning round, recognised in the driver, thedetective from Scotland Yard who had called at the bank theprevious day.

Larose recognising him at the same moment, pulled up, andasked if he would like a lift.

"You are going to the castle, of course," he said as the youngfellow jumped up beside him, "I understand this road leads onlyto there."

John Harden nodded and then asked smilingly, "Found anythingyet to help you about Mr. Holden?"

Larose looked sideways at him. He was quite a handsome boy,with good chin and mouth and nice honest eyes. He saw he wasbeing well scrutinised, and noticed, too, the hesitation of thedetective in replying to his question.

"But I suppose I ought not to have asked you that," he added."All detectives, I understand are very secretive."

"On the contrary," laughed Larose, "for we often obtain vitalinformation by imparting information ourselves, first. No, Ihaven't found out anything for certain yet, but I am staying fora few days at the inn on Minsmere Haven and may pick up somethingany time. But tell me," he added, "did Mr. Holden know LordThralldom?"

"Oh! yes," was the reply, "his lordship has an account at ourbank. He very rarely comes in, however, and we haven't seen himat all since his illness about six months ago. He can hardly walknow."

"No-o," replied the young man hesitatingly, and the detectivemade a mental note that he had got rather red.

A moment's silence followed and then the boy went on—"Awonderful old place this, sir, is it not? One of the bestpreserved castles in England. There's a lot of romance about it,too, for gold treasure is supposed to be hidden somewhere, andgenerations of Thralldoms have been trying to find it."

They chatted on during the short journey and then, as theywere approaching close to the castle young Harden exclaimedsuddenly, "Oh! you might just put me down here, if you don'tmind; I may not be going into the castle until later."

Instantly, Larose following the direction of the boy's eyes,saw the bright colour of a woman's dress among the trees of thebig garden upon one side of the road.

"Ah! ah!" he thought, "but I might have guessed something ofthat nature from his happy expression." He sighed. "Really, I amnot much of a detective and am growing old."

He dropped his passenger as requested, and with his eyesroaming everywhere, crossed the bridge over the moat. Alightingfrom the car, he pressed upon the bell at the side of the bigdoor.

"My conscience!" he ejaculated looking round, "but this placelooks prepared for a siege, even now. With that great spiked doorshut, it would need a battering ram before one could cross thebridge and, although this front door is invitingly open, thatsteel grille inside has first to be passed before one can enterthe castle." He nodded, "Yes, this old chap here certainly keepshimself select."

A tall footman, resplendently attired in the livery of theThralldoms appeared, and with a sharp movement of his arm, openeda small door in the grille.

The footman, eyeing him intently, shook his head. "I'm sorry,sir," he replied, "but his lordship sees no one except byappointment and he has made no appointments for to-day."

"But he'll see me," said the detective. "I'm from ScotlandYard. Take this card to him, please."

The footman received the card and glanced down at it, but hestill looked doubtful. "I'll enquire, sir," he said, andretreating behind the grille, he pushed it to anddisappeared.

Larose looked out across the moat and was an interestedobserver of the meeting of young Harden and the wearer of thebright dress among the trees. The lifting of a hat with greatreverence, the outstretching of two hands, and the gentleinclination towards each other of two heads.

"Like two doves meeting upon the roof," he commented dryly."The madness of life, its greatest mystery, its greatest urge!"He sighed. "Nothing in it at all and yet—the very glory oflife itself." He looked again at the huge, spiked door upon thebridge and then at the grille. "But it seems I shall be getting acool reception here."

But he was quite mistaken there, for the footman returning inless than a minute, the grille was opened and he was conductedthrough an immense hall and down a long corridor into the librarywhere the great Lord of Thralldom received him with a courteous,if haughty, bow.

His lordship was standing, supporting himself against a bigarm-chair, and he waved the detective to another chair placed atthe other side of the table, before seating himself. He staredintently at his visitor with big, fierce, penetrating eyes. Thefootman, evidently acting upon instructions, took up a positionbehind his master, and immediately proceeded to assume thedetached and impassive pose of the well-trained servant.

"You say you are from Scotland Yard," interrupted LordThralldom. "Show me your badge. I am a magistrate and understandthese things."

"So I supposed," commented Lord Thralldom instantly. "Iunderstand his wife had approached the London police." He lookedscornful. "But what her reason was, I cannot see. The localpolice are quite capable enough to deal with a matter such asthis."

"Happened!" exclaimed his lordship. "How do I know? I am asmuch in the dark as anyone. He may have walked over the cliff andgot drowned. I have been losing a lot of my sheep lately, thatway. He was short-sighted and very obstinate in refusing to wearglasses, and those over-hanging cliffs are dangerous to people ofgood sight, even in the day time. He may have done that or hemay——" He turned sharply to the footman. "You canleave us, James, and close the door after you."

He ceased speaking until the footman had left the room andthen went on very quietly. "Or he may have had a quarrel with hiswife and just taken himself off to be away from her for a fewdays." He nodded his head. "That is quite possible, for she ispig-headed and obstinate, that woman. Just as obstinate as heused to be."

"But you are certain he is dead, are you not, my lord?"persisted Larose. "You are assured of that in your own mind?"

"Not at all, not at all," replied Lord Thralldom quickly. "Iam assured of nothing, I tell you, except that his absence fromhis duties dates from that morning when he could not befound."

"But you have made Mrs. Rawlings leave her home," frownedLarose, "and appointed a new bailiff."

Lord Thralldom shrugged his shoulders. "As a matter ofroutine, sir," he replied. "Upon a large estate like mine, Icannot spare any servant for any length of time."

"Another question, my lord," said the detective. "I understandthat Rawlings was in your service for over twenty years andtherefore I am quite sure you must have formed a very accurateestimation of his character." He looked sharply at him. "Now didit ever strike you that he was unbalanced in his mind?"

"Certainly not!" replied Lord Thralldom promptly. "He was acold, unemotional man, and secretive and reserved, if you like,but there was nothing, no nothing, mentally deficient about him.He was as sane as you or I." He bent forward confidingly towardsthe detective. "Now, you take it from me, sir, that there is nooccasion to go further into this matter. Either Rawlings hasgiven himself leave of absence and will return of his own accordin due time, or else he has fallen over those cliffs and beendrowned. Of course there is nothing certain, but those are theonly two alternatives that I can suggest." He smiled in afriendly way at the detective. "So you just go back to ScotlandYard, say you have seen Lord Thralldom and that there is no needto make any further enquiries." He frowned. "It is most annoyingto me to have detectives coming about the place, and it is mostdistressing for Mrs. Rawlings to have the matter kept open for solong."

"Bodies are never washed up here," broke in Lord Thralldom."It is a peculiarity of the current round this coast, that theyare carried out into deep water and then—well I supposethey are eaten by the conger eels. We never see anything of mydrowned sheep."

"But is your lordship aware," went on Larose, "that it isrumoured Rawlings was in the habit of roaming about in the dark,even as late as midnight and at hours after that?"

"No, I am not aware," replied Lord Thralldom, instantly. Helooked scornful. "But then the gossip of the villages never comesto my ears."

Lord Thralldom appeared quite uninterested. "I knew nothing ofmy bailiff's private life." He looked sharply at the detective."But what if he did? It might have been his habit to take walkingexercise at night."

"But there are people who say they have actually met him,"continued Larose, "even upon nights later than the one upon whichhe disappeared. Upon one occasion, as recently as lastTuesday."

Lord Thralldom was interested now. He looked astounded andraised himself quickly with a jerk. "What!" he exclaimed, withhis eyes opened very wide, "who saw him last Tuesday?"

"Some men who were returning from Darsham," replied Larose."They called out to him, but he didn't answer."

For a few moments then, there was silence, with Lord Thralldomstaring hard at the detective, with his face all puckered into aheavy frown. Then he laughed scoffingly.

"I don't believe it," he said sharply, "for if he's about theplace, he would have returned to duty. I know enough about theman to be sure of that."

"Will say anything," interrupted his lordship, "and spread anytales." He shook his head solemnly. "None but they, sir, who havelived on the countryside can realise the foolishness andcredulity of these villagers. They will see and say anything.They believe in ghosts and charms and witches and nothing is toogross for their superstitions." He looked contemptuous. "Theynever saw Rawlings, they just imagined they did."

A long silence followed, and then the detective said slowly,"So you can give me no help at all, my lord?"

"None whatever," was the reply. "Either the man will turn upof his own accord, as I say, or else—his disappearance willremain a mystery for ever."

The detective was rising to his feet to terminate theinterview when Lord Thralldom said suddenly, "Oh! whilst you arehere, sir, perhaps you will very kindly give me your opinion uponanother matter." The fierce, intent look came again into hiseyes. "I have some very valuable paintings here, and amongothers, have recently acquired a Rubens that I would not sell for£40,000. I have taken every conceivable precaution fortheir safety, but do you think"—he looked most worried andanxious—"that any miscreants would dare to make use ofexplosives, to break in here."

Larose laughed. "Explosives make a lot of noise, my lord," hereplied, "and this castle is not sufficiently isolated for anyburglars to run the risk of arousing the countryside."

Lord Thralldom pursed up his lips. "But the Earl of Balir losttwo Hogarths that way, and remember, they used explosivesthere."

"A lonely house in the Highlands," smiled Larose, "an agedcaretaker and his wife, and no help forthcoming within twentymiles."

But Lord Thralldom looked unconvinced. "I am an old man," hesaid wistfully, "and have little to live for but mypaintings"—he sighed—"and they are a great worry tome. I am in poor health and an invalid and have to leaveeverything to others." His face grew hard and grim again. "Andthis castle is being watched, I know. These last few days even,an evil-looking man has been seen prowling about the meadows. Ihave seen him myself through my glasses, several times. He isdisguised, I am sure, for he is got up like a golfer on thestage. I have had him ordered away, but he always returns."

"Well, I don't think you need worry, my lord," smiled Larose,very much amused at this description of the great Naughton Jones."You are well protected. That grille in the hall would take a lotof breaking through." He rose to his feet and inclined his head."I am much obliged to your lordship for seeing me."

"Not at all," replied Lord Thralldom, brightening up. "I onlywish I could help you. But you'll take some refreshment," headded. He pressed a bell upon the table. "Oh! but I insist. Myfootman will take you to the pantry."

The detective acquiesced. It was a hot day and he was thirsty,besides he was nothing loth to have the chance of picking up someinformation from the servants and accordingly, he was led away inthe direction of the kitchen regions.

Reaching the servants' hall, where three prepossessing maidswere having tea, the footman paused. "Which would you prefer,sir?" he asked the detective, "a glass of beer in the pantry, ora cup of tea with the young ladies here."

"Oh!" replied Larose gallantly, "a cup of tea, of course," andat once a place was made for him at the table, and tea poured outby one of the smiling girls.

"Froggy, Froggy," called out the footman, "we've got avisitor, so bring out some of those poisonous cakes of yours,"and then winking at the detective, he whispered, "We've got a newFrench chef here and he can beat the world with his stuff."

"'Orl right, I come, I come," came a merry voice from thekitchen and Larose gasped in surprise, for the voice of theunseen Froggy was undoubtedly that of the jovial thief, RaphaelCroupin.

Half a minute later, the chef came into view, carrying agenerous pile of cakes upon a dish, but dish and all beganslipping from his hands as his eyes fell upon Larose. His jawdropped and he was the very picture of consternation.

"Steady, Froggy," called out the footman angrily. "What's upwith you? You'll be spilling all your trash."

The chef recovered himself instantly, and the look ofconsternation changed in a flash to one of impudentamusement.

"This is Froggy," introduced the footman, "and this gentleman,Froggy," he added in mock severity, "is a detective who has comedown from Scotland Yard to arrest you for bigamy."

"Non, non," laughed Croupin showing his beautiful white teeth,"for I have nevaire even a sweetheart until I come here andnow"—he bowed to the giggling girls—"I have three allat once."

He set the dish upon the table with a great flourish, and thenasked smilingly of Larose, "You speak French, Monsieur?"

Immediately, then Croupin spoke rapidly in French. "Meet me atnine o'clock at the old hut by the plantation on the marsh road.I will explain. It is urgent." And then he turned with a mirthfuleye to the girls. "Zat means in my language, 'You must not fallin love with any of zem, for I love zem all.'" And he laughedheartily at his own impudence.

Over the tea and cakes the detective then proceeded to chateasily with the servants, and was at once on good terms withthem. He speedily brought round the conversation to thedisappearance of the bailiff, and soon learnt that they wereunanimously of opinion that the man had fallen over the cliff andbeen drowned.

The footman, James, a big, strong fellow, but apparently notover-gifted with brains and inclined to be loquacious, was sureof it. Two holiday-makers were drowned there last year, he gaveas his reason for being so certain, and as things always happenedin threes, then of course, it had been for the bailiff tocomplete the sequence.

At the last moment, when the detective had made his good-byesto the girls and was leaving the room, Croupin again spoke inFrench and, as before, very rapidly.

"To-night at nine," he called out, "and I'll startle you. Ibelieve that man was murdered." And then he smilingly explainedto the girls, "Zat means I shall be marrying one of you, but I amnot certain which one yet."

The detective was not a little thoughtful upon his journeyback to the inn, and he had to confess to himself that his ideaswere now in a state of bewildering chaos. Was Rawlings alive ordead, and could the information that Naughton Jones had picked upbe relied upon? If Jones were right about Rawlings, theneverything would fit in with the ideas that he, Larose, hadconceived, and the disappearances of the other three missingpeople would be explained. A madman roaming upon Thralldom atnight, and striking down indiscriminately everyone he met! But ifJones were wrong then the mystery was in a way as far from beingsolved as ever, unless the butcher from Halesworth stepped in tofill the bill.

He gave it up at last with a sigh and then he nodded his headwith a grim smile. "Well, we'll see what Monsieur Croupin has tosay to-night. He may be a thief and everything that Jones saidabout him, but for all that, he's a shrewd fellow, and it's aHeaven-sent gift having him now as an ally inside thecastle."

Now there is always a mystery about the way of a man with amaid and the wile of a maid with a man, and when the two havefallen in love with one another, long before the boundaries ofthe polite and distant conventionalities of life are passed,there is always a perfect, though it may be wholly unconscious,understanding between them.

And so it was now with Ann Devenham and young Harden. Theywere in love with one another and both desirous, in theirdiffering ways, that the raptures of real love-making shouldeventuate as speedily as possible.

The boy, man-like, would have stormed the castle at once withno delay, and the girl would have been quite willing, except thatthe usages and customs of her class demanded that she should becourted with due ceremony, in stages, and with the usualmaddening uncertainty upon her lover's side. She had never beenreally in love before, but now she had quite made up her mindthat she would like young Harden for a husband, and so, when shehad said good-bye to him after the last dance at the AssemblyHall, she had smiled upon him in such a way that only the densestyouth could have failed to realise that he was being encouragedto seek further opportunities for seeing her.

Ann was quite a determined young woman, and although she knewthat neither her step-mother nor her great-uncle would look withfavour upon his suit, she did not forget that she was overtwenty-one years old and her own mistress, as far as the bestowalof her affections was concerned. She was sure Lord Thralldomwould be furious, for he was always reminding her of herThralldom blood, and took it for granted that she would, one day,ally herself with a family that was as old and distinguished asher own.

She was weary of her days at Thralldom Castle, however, andthe advent of John Harden into her life was like the sunshinebreaking through upon the drab and dreariness of a winter'sday.

But, of course, when young Harden appeared among the treesthat sunny afternoon, the ordinary happenings as usual upon suchoccasions, occurred.

She saw him coming perfectly well, but pretended not to havedone so, and turned a slim and dainty shoulder in his direction.Then when he spoke, she appeared startled, as is customary, andreturned his greeting with a most becoming blush upon herface.

"I've brought you those books of poems that we spoke about,"he said, and his voice was a little husky.

"Oh I how very nice of you! I've wanted to read them for everso long," she fibbed sweetly, for she was quite aware there werecopies of the same books, that she could have perused any time,in the castle library. "Did you walk here?" she went on,evidently desirous of giving him the impression that she had notseen him alight from a car.

"Part of the way," he replied, "but then someone who was goingto see Lord Thralldom, gave me a lift."

"Still, you must be tired," she said smiling. "Come over hereand we'll sit down," and she led the way to a big garden seatthat was partly hidden from view among the trees.

They were soon chatting easily and naturally to one another,but each with a set purpose in everything they said. He told herthat his father was a doctor in London, that his life in the bankwas very monotonous and dreary, but that he was ambitious, andwriting a book, and she told him about herself and her life inthe castle.

Her father was dead and she had intended to be a nurse once,then she and her stepmother had come to Thralldom because theyhad not been left well off, and her grand-uncle had offered thema home. Not that he would have been lonely if they had not come,for he lived so much for his paintings and nothing else reallymattered to him. His paintings, however, were a great worry tohim and often at night he would hobble up on to the battlements,and through his glasses, imagine he saw people watching thecastle. Also he used to walk up and down the corridors wheneverybody else was in bed.

The castle was really very wonderful—she would take himthere presently—but there were many parts of it she had notseen. More than half of it had been walled off for more thanfifty years and the uninhabited portion was very much as it hadbeen, hundreds of years ago. No, she had never attempted toexplore it, for Lord Thralldom was fidgety in some ways and didnot like anyone to go in. Once, she had just been shown theentrance to the dungeons and that was all.

But there were a tremendous number of rooms under the castleshe understood. Huge storage places, dungeons, vaults with gravesand coffins in them, and long passages that descended even deeperthan the moat.

Yes, of course, it was said there were ghosts haunting thecastle. She had never seen any, but occasionally she had heardnoises at night behind the walls, but she had imagined they hadonly been rats and she had not been afraid.

Strangers often wrote, asking if they might go over thecastle, but Lord Thralldom always refused. There was supposed tobe treasure buried somewhere in the vaults, gold plate that hadbeen hidden away when Henry VIII. seized the monasteries, and thelords of Thralldom had been looking for it for hundreds of yearsbut none of them had found it.

Her great hobby was music, and she would have been very lonelybut for that. There was a beautiful organ in the chapel—thelast Lord Thralldom had paid a fortune for it—and sheplayed on it every day. Certainly she would take him into thechapel and show it him, after she had given him some tea.

So, for an hour and more, they talked on, and then havingwalked round the garden, they turned their steps towards thebridge over the moat.

Passing upon their way, they met Larose, who was then leavingthe castle, and the detective flashed an admiring glance upon thegirl.

"Nothing in it, did I say?" he sighed, as he sped by. "Well,perhaps I might be inclined to qualify that statement in certaincircumstances"—he smiled—"and this might be one."

Harden was introduced to Lady Deering, who was very polite, ifa little curious, when she learnt that her stepdaughter had methim at a dance during her recent stay with the vicar atSaxmundham. She was puzzled, however, why Ann had mentionednothing about his coming up, for, of course, she told herself, hewould not have come without being invited.

Captain Bonnett was puzzled, too, but for a different reason.He had recognised Harden at once as having been one of the clerkswho had changed one of Silas Hudson's £5 bank notes for himin the bank at Saxmundham, and he wondered how the devil it wasthe fellow came to be having tea at the castle. The captain wasnot only puzzled, but in a way of being distinctly furious aswell, for he noticed a most becoming blush upon Ann's face, andthere could be no doubt from her manner towards young Harden,what had brought it there.

Lord Thralldom came in later, and after one hard glance at thevisitor, was courteous but quite uninterested until he heard themdiscussing Ruskin'sModern Pictures, and then findingthat, at any rate, the boy knew a little about art, upon Ann'ssuggestion, he consented to take them into the picture gallery.There, Harden was so obviously enthralled with the beauty of 'TheMan of Sorrows' that his manner towards him thawed considerablyand finally, he invited him to stay to dinner.

At first young Harden was not a little awed with theceremonies of the meal, but Ann was an inspiration, and anincentive to his courage and he soon appeared as if it were quitean ordinary thing for him to be waited upon by a butler, andfootmen, attired in gorgeous liveries.

Dinner over, Lord Thralldom retired to the library, and LadyDeering commandeering Captain Bonnett for a game of chess, Anntook Harden into the chapel. There, she played for him, like anangel herself, he thought—among the angels in the stainedglass windows and the frescoes on the walls.

She played soft, dreamy pieces in the dim religious light, andcarried away by the beauty of the music, he was soon regardingher with such reverence that he chided himself it was a sacrilegeever to have been hoping, one day, even to kiss her hand.

She was hallowed, she was divine, and no one was worthy evento kiss her in their secret thoughts!

But it all came to an end at last with the rapturous sweetnessof a mediaeval vesper, and a few minutes later he was walkingthrough the scented dusk, bearing in his heart so great ahappiness that he was astonished it did not burst.

Ann returned to the drawing-room where her stepmother wasstill engaged at chess with the angry Captain Bonnett. LadyDeering looked up as the girl entered, and it was evident fromher manner that she had now been informed by the captain as tothe status of their visitor.

"You shouldn't have brought him in, Ann, before asking us,"she said querulously. "You know how particular your uncle is,"and when the girl made no reply, she asked—"What did hecome after?"

Ann smiled as if she were very amused. "Why me, of course,"she answered, and then when her stepmother looked scandalised atso unmaidenly an avowal, the girl added with mischief in hereyes, "or else after uncle's paintings."

CHAPTER VIII. — THE SECRET DOOR

IT wanted yet five minutes to nine when RaphaelCroupin slipped into the ruined hut by the marsh road and foundLarose waiting for him, seated upon a heap of stones.

"Good evening, Monsieur Croupin," said the detective dryly."Then you are not staying in Southwold after all?"

But there was no embarrassment about the Frenchman, and hiseyes twinkled. "Oh! but it was droll you should meet me in thecastle," he exclaimed smilingly, "and yet, when the shock wasover, I was never more glad of anything in all my life, for Ihave so much to tell you."

He spoke in excellent English and there was now no trace ofthe exaggerated accent that he had made use of in the servants'hall earlier in the day.

The detective eyed him very sternly. "Well, what are you doingup there, my friend," he asked, "masquerading as a cook?"

Croupin threw out his hands in a gesture of amazement."Masquerading!" he exclaimed indignantly. "And did you not noticethe flavour of my cakes?" He shook his finger accusingly. "Youate four of them, I saw."

"Never mind about the cakes," said Larose sharply, "but whatdid you take that situation at the castle for?"

Croupin appeared surprised at the question. "Why, for theRubens, of course." He was quite calm and unflurried. "I thoughtit much too beautiful to be in this cold and unappreciativecountry and so, I came to borrow it—for France."

"Oh! you did, did you?" commented Larose grimly. "Then I'llstop that and you'll clear out at once."

"But it is not necessary, for I have no longer any hope ofit," went on Croupin sadly. "First because it is an old man'streasure and I would not break his heart, and secondly," hesighed—"I see I cannot get it." He shook his head. "No, Imake no attempt to touch it now for I do not understand thewiring of those alarms. They are of a kind I do not know and areeven fused into the glass. There is talk, too, that they ringdirect into the police station at Saxmundham." He shrugged hisshoulders resignedly. "So, I leave that 'Man of Sorrows'alone."

"Then for what purpose are you continuing on at the castle?"asked Larose as if not yet convinced.

The Frenchman's face became all smiles again. "Ah! now that isquite a different matter and I wait there"—he lowered hisvoice to a whisper—"because I am in the midst of one ofthose mysteries that I love."

Larose shook his head frowningly. "Monsieur Croupin," he said,"you'll have to make a clean breast of everything. I have acertain regard for you, as you know, but as an officer attachedto Scotland Yard"—he nodded—"but you understand."

"Yes, I understand," nodded back Croupin. He beamed in themost friendly maimer at the detective. "But I am going to be ofgreat help to you, Monsieur," he went on, "for I think I know whokilled that bailiff of Lord Thralldom." He paused dramatically."He is in the castle now and he is William, one of the footmen upthere."

If he had expected Larose to show any astonishment, he wasdisappointed, for the detective eyed him with an expression inwhich there was no surprise. "Oh! he is dead, is he?" he saidquietly. "How do you know?"

"I do not know," exclaimed Croupin quickly. "I only guess. Butit looks like it. Now, you listen to me." He went on verysolemnly, "That night when the bailiff disappeared, I was up onthe battlements. I had no business to be there because it isforbidden. It is one of the rules of the castle that the servantsmust not go anywhere except where their work is. Besides, it waslate and we are all ordered to go to our rooms at ten. We arekept like prisoners there, for at ten o'clock to the minute, thecastle is locked and barred everywhere because of those picturesthe lord has, and if you touched a door or a window, alarms wouldring all over the place. Well, it was not long after eleven andclose near to the time when the woman said her husband had gotout of his bed. It was half-moonlight and there was a mistrolling over the meadows from the marshes, and the moon wasblurred over with clouds. Suddenly I saw someone running and hehad one arm raised up higher than the other. He ran on his toes,as we run when we do not want our footsteps to be heard. I onlysaw him—just a glimpse—and then I lost him in themist."

"Then," went on the Frenchman, breathlessly and stirred intoexcitement by his own recital, "I heard a little cry, a cry thatjust began and then stopped. I was sure of it. Just a little cryand very short but—it was a cry. Then I leant over thebattlements and stared into the shadows of the mist again andthen, whilst he was in my sight for perhaps a dozenyards"—he spoke very slowly—"I saw, it might havebeen a different man go by."

"I do not think so," was the reply, "but I only saw him fromabove the waist for he was in the mist up to his loins. He lookedtall and big and he walked heavily, as if he were very tired."Croupin nodded solemnly. "Do you know, Monsieur, I believe thefirst man was running with something lifted in his hand, and thesecond man"—his voice had dropped to a whispernow—"was carrying a body."

Croupin shook his head. "I cannot be quite sure," he replied,"but it might have been towards the Priory, I often think."

"And where exactly was this man, or these men, when you sawthem?" went on Larose.

Croupin shook his head for the second time. "Again, I am notsure, for the mist was so deceiving, but I looked across thebattlements upon the next night, when it was clear, and I thoughtit may have been on this side of the plantation, close to theedge of the big meadow where the cows are."

"And you recognised the footman, you say," asked the detectivewith obvious doubt in his voice, "in the mist and darkness andall that way away?"

"No, no," replied Croupin quickly. "I did not recognise him. Isaw no face at all, and it was not until a few days ago that theidea came to me that it was William, and then it exploded in melike a bomb." He spoke most impressively. "It was like this. LastTuesday two men came up to the castle to deliver coal and one ofthem hurt his wrist in backing the horses and could not lift thesacks. They told Lady Deering, and as the other footman was inthe village, William had to help. He did not like it, but he gotsome overalls from the garage and went carrying the sacks. Then,then——"

"Go on, Monsieur," said the detective sharply, for Croupin washesitating as if he did not know what to say.

"Then," said Croupin slowly, "I was sitting in the kitchen andI saw him pass before the window every time he carried a sack. Iwas not a bit interested at first, but then he got tired andbegan to walk slower and slower every time he passed, andsuddenly, I could feel that I was frowning. I was puzzled aboutsomething, and I moved up to the window to make out what it was.Then, all in an instant I knew why I had frowned." He leantforward and almost hissed in the detective's ear. "He was walkingin exactly the same way as that second man had walked that nightwhen I thought he was carrying a body with him through themist."

"Yes, his head was bent, his shoulders were bowed and hewalked with the same peculiar, short stride." Croupin threw outhis hands. "It gave me a shock for their way of walking wasexactly the same."

"But how could that footman have got out of the castle," askedLarose incredulously, "to have been walking about at that time ofnight? You say the place is all locked up at ten."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Frenchman in his turn and his eyes werebright as stars, "and now I come to something that will evenpuzzle the great Larose." He raised one finger warningly. "Listencarefully for I have a lot to say and must be quick, forremember, I have to be back in thesacre castle by ten orI shall be locked out."

He paused a moment as if to marshal all his facts in theirproper order and then went on.

"You have not seen William yet, but only James." He shook hishead. "But of course their names are not really James andWilliam. The lord always calls all his footmen James and William,just as if they were his slaves and he has bred them like hiscows. Well, this William is a peculiar man. No, he is not common.He is educated and has books upon his shelves about great men whoare dead, that I would never read. He is a favourite with thelord and waits upon him, more than anybody else. He talks verylittle and is tall and big. He never opens his eyes wide. Theyare like slits, and he turns them from side to side withoutmoving his head. Rosa—she is one of the maids—saysshe is sure he is not right and sometimes I, too, have thoughthim half mad."

Croupin broke off his narrative and asked suddenly: "You havenever been in prison, Monsieur Larose?" He smiled. "No, I thoughtnot, but it happens I have. It was when I was quite a young manand I was punished for what I had not done." He nodded. "That'swhat made me the man I am now." He screwed up his face and pickedout his words very carefully. "Now, I think somehow that Williamhas been in prison, too. I have been in his room several timesand he is very tidy, and always, I notice, he folds up his spareblanket, just as we did ours in our cells. And another thing, ifyou speak to him very suddenly, very softly, he answers you backwithout any movement of his lips, just like we did in prisontoo."

Croupin smiled again. "So I began to be puzzled about Williamsoon after I came to the castle and I kept my eyes on him. Thenone morning he borrowed a penknife from James and went out forhis free afternoon before he had returned it. And James wanted itback and went into William's room to try and find it. And helooked in a drawer that he ought not to have looked into andfound something hidden at the bottom, so secretly under a lot ofclothes, that he brought it out to show me."

The Frenchman laughed at the intent look upon the detective'sface. "No, nothing startling yet. It was just a book about thecastles of England, but there were well-thumbed pages where itspoke about this castle here, and it said that there was goldhidden underneath which had never been found." He shrugged hisshoulders. "But of course we have all heard about that, andsecret passages too. It is the common talk in the villages. SoJames was only amused and he put back the book, but he mentionedthen that weeks before he had caught William tapping upon thechapel walls with a small hammer. James thought nothing of it,but I"—and Croupin drew in a deep breath—"knew atonce what must be in William's mind."

He broke off his narrative here. "That chapel, Monsieur, isthe most interesting of that part of the castle, where we live.It is very, very old, and it has never been altered in any way.It is right at the end of the castle and up against the oldwalls. We are none of us allowed to go in there, except Rose, whodusts it every morning, but I have paid several visits, for thestained-glass windows are supposed to be of great value, and Iwas wondering," he grinned, "if they could be cut out and takenaway."

"Go on, Monsieur Croupin," said the detective sternly. "Youcan make up your mind that the belongings of the castle willremain intact. You will take nothing away."

A merry smile was Croupin's only reply, and he picked up thethreads of his story again. "Then, two weeks passed and I wastaking notice, too, to try and find a passage to those vaults. Ithought of likely places and whenever I could get a chance Isounded upon the walls. But I could discover nothing, and in theend I told myself I was a fool, for hundred and hundreds beforeme must have done the same thing." He lowered his voiceimpressively. "Then suddenly I made the startling discovery thatWilliam was in the habit of leaving his room in the middle of thenight. His room is next to mine and many nights, I remembered, Ihad heard noises. I had given no thought to them at the time,believing they were only the rats. We have no rats where we livein the castle, but we can often hear them in the parts that arebricked off. Then one night I was wakeful and I heard him cominginto his room about four o'clock in the morning, and the next dayI noticed that he looked very tired."

"So, that night I kept awake and watched, all ready to followhim if he went out. But nothing happened that night nor the next,and the third night I was so tired that I fell asleep, and I wasfurious, for I woke up just before four o'clock and heard Williamcreeping into his room again. Also I heard him pulling out histrunk that is kept under his bed."

"You are very interesting, Monsieur Croupin," remarked Larosegrimly, as the Frenchman paused again, "but it would be best ifyou got on a little quicker, because it will soon be teno'clock."

"Yes, I was furious," went on Croupin taking no notice of theinterruption, "and I made up my mind I would stand no morenonsense. So, that night I put fifteen grains of veronal into hiscoffee and at one o'clock in the morning went in to search hisroom. He was sleeping like a dead man and I knew I was safe. Itwas a long while, however, before I could find his keys for hewas carrying them in a belt round his body. I wanted to get them,for the lock on his trunk was a Yale and difficult to pick. Iopened his trunk quickly and made a thorough search "—anote of triumph came into his voice—"and what do you thinkI found?"

Larose shook his head. "It is not fair to ask me"—helooked at his watch—"and you are wasting time."

"Two old bracelets of beaten gold with the Thralldom arms uponthem and a gold crucifix," exclaimed Croupin excitedly, "tied upin some shaving paper and a handkerchief, and stuffed in a pairof slippers at the very bottom of the trunk, also a big overalland a jacket that smelt horribly of earth, wrapped round innewspaper many times."

"So, he'd found a way down into the vaults, had he?" commentedLarose. "Go on, Monsieur."

"Well, after that," went on Croupin, "I let nothing escape me,and I watched William as a cat does a mouse. Night after night, Isat up in a hard chair with my ear close to the door and with noshoes on, and never allowed myself to go to sleep until wellafter three o'clock. But nothing happened until last night," heheaved a great sigh of relief, "and that is why I am so pleasedto have you now."

"Well, last night just before twelve," said Croupin, "I hearda movement in his room, but he was too quick for me and when Ifollowed into the passage, I could not see which way he had gone.I wondered if it was to the chapel and crept round the manycorners and down the long corridors until I came there. Thechapel door was shut but the key was outside, in the lock, and Isaw it was not turned. I waited a moment and then went in. Then,as everything was silent, I ventured to flash my torch, but thechapel was all empty except for a big rat which darted from underthe organ and ran straight across the floor. I was in despair andraced up to William's room to see if he was really gone. I riskedeverything and opened his door. Yes, he had gone and his bed hadnot been slept in."

Croupin looked the very picture of despondency as if he wereexperiencing all over again the disappointment he had receivedthen. Soon, however, his face brightened.

"But suddenly the idea came to me that if I could not find outwhere William had gone, I could at least find out from whence hewas going to return. I would stretch black cotton across all thepassages and as he broke it coming back, it would be as plain asfootsteps in the sand. I almost laughed with joy and then I wasin despair again. It was after midnight and I had no blackcotton."

Croupin paused dramatically and the detective did not speak.He judged it best to let him take his time.

Croupin continued. "Then I did something that I have neverdone in all my life before and I did it in great fear." He lookedvery troubled. "I went into a young girl's room when she wassleeping and she might have wakened and thought I was a bad man.It was Bertha's room I went into. She is the sewing maid, and Iknew I should find cotton there." He looked interrogatively atLarose. "You remember Bertha? She is the little dark one whosefigure I saw you admiring this afternoon when she was pouring outthe tea. She is very pretty with those dark eyes and long lashesof hers, and I do not wonder that you were lookingat——"

The detective got rather red. "Go on, Monsieur," heinterrupted testily. "You are too imaginative in yourobservations and we shall be here all night."

Croupin grinned. "Well, I went to her door and found itlocked, as I expected, but I had a few things ready in my pocketthat I had thought I might want when I was intending to followWilliam, and I knew I could soon make short work of that. Ilistened and heard no sound and so quickly had the door opened.Then I crept in." He spoke very softly now. "The moon was shiningon her as she slept and everything was plain. Her dark head wason the pillow, her neck was open and her bosom rose and fell. Istopped for one moment and my heart was in my mouth for shelooked so beautiful and I thought of the husband she would oneday have. Then suddenly she turned upon her back and oh! shecommenced to snore!" He threw out his hands in horror. "I justgrabbed up the cotton from the work-basket and got as quickly asI could from the room."

"She didn't hear you at all?" frowned Larose, who, from theexpression on his face, had been getting restive at this part ofthe recital.

"No, she did not wake and I ran to the kitchen and made alittle piece of dough. Then, I stuck the cotton with it, acrossall the passages and went back to my room to wait until it waslight. William came back just after three, and in the morning,"the Frenchman made one of his irritating pauses here, "I foundall the cottons broken in all the corridors leading to the chapeland so I knew where he had been."

"But that is not all," went on Croupin quickly, "for again Itook another risk. Just before the family had finished lunch,when I hoped everyone would be out of the way, I left my kitchenand ran into the chapel, for during the morning I had been seizedwith an idea. It was associated with that big rat that Imentioned had rushed out when I flashed my torch round thechapel. I remembered it had run straight to one place in thewainscoting where there was no possible cover for it, and for twoor three seconds perhaps, it had run backwards and forwardsthere, as if looking for some opening that it could not find.Now, as I have told you there are no rats in our part of thecastle and therefore I knew it had come up from the dungeons andhad certainly got in when William had opened the secret door thathe must have found. So, when I disturbed it, I argued to myselfthat it had run where it had, to try and get back to its home bythe way it had come."

"Well," smiled Croupin, gratified at the compliment, "Iexamined that part of the wall to where it had run. It was oakpanelling and black with age. I tapped it everywhere but couldget no hollow sounds. Then I held a lighted match low down wherethe panel reached the stone flags of the chapel floorand"—he rubbed his hand delightedly—"there was adraught blowing and immediately my match went out."

"Then," said Croupin, "I began pulling and pushing at thepanels, and almost before I knew what had happened"—hecould hardly speak in his excitement—"a panel slipped toone side, there was a gush of air, and an opening, big enough toadmit a man, gaped before my eyes."

He paused for a moment as if quite exhausted and then addedquietly. "And that is the end of my story. Monsieur Larose."

"You didn't go down?" asked the detective. "You made noattempt to see where it led to?"

Croupin threw out his bands. "How could I?" he exclaimed. "Itwas only this afternoon that I found it."

Larose regarded him frowningly. "But how does this help us tolink up the footman with the man who was out on the marshes thatnight?" he asked.

"It helps us a great deal," replied Croupin quickly, "for itis common talk that there is a passage from the dungeons leadingunder the moat to somewhere on the castle lands. The tradesmenwho come to the door have talked about it to us, and a guest atthe lord's table, a Captain Bonnett, asked about it at dinner theother night. James told us the lord was very angry and said itwas all nonsense, but"—he shrugged hisshoulders—"everyone believes it, although no one knowswhere the entrance is, outside." His voice rose in excitement."But I will find it, now I know of that panel that slides back inthe chapel."

"No, no," said Larose emphatically, "you must not take it onby yourself." He held up his hand. "Now wait a minute. I want tothink."

The Frenchman lit a cigarette and Larose, looking out into thedarkness, sat biting at his lip in his perplexity. So anothersupposed madman had come upon the scene and there must be madnessin the very air about Thralldom! What was he to do, with thesethree trails to follow—the footman's—the bailiff'sand the butcher's from Halesworth?

A long silence ensued and then the detective spoke as if hehad at last made up his mind.

"Croupin, my boy," he said, and he laughed good-humouredly,"you're not quite a prize-packet for a Sunday school, and I'mquite sure that our mutual friend, Mr. Jones, does not think toomuch of you at any time, still—" and he pretended to heavea great sigh—"we'll have to go into partnership, you and I,and work out this puzzle together." He pointed into the darknessin the direction of the marshes and spoke very sternly. "And itis not one death only we shall have to consider, but four, forthree men and one woman, I am thinking died bloody deaths withinone mile of where we now are."

Then very briefly but omitting no material facts, he toldRaphael Croupin about his mission from Scotland Yard and how farhis discoveries had led him.

The Frenchman listened wide-eyed in horror, but with therecital over, snapped his fingers exultingly together.

"We will find him, you and I," he exclaimed, "whether it beWilliam or some one else. He will be a cunning fox that will hidehis tracks when we are hunting together." He suddenly rememberedsomething and his face fell. "But about Meester Jones, what shallwe tell him?"

"Not much," replied Larose grimly, "and we can leaveyou out, anyhow." He smiled. "We will solve his problemfor him and give it him as a present."

"But one moment," exclaimed Croupin quickly. "There are yetsome things going on in that castle that we must understand,although I think they have nothing to do with William." He spokevery impressively. "Now, two men who are staying at a house onthe beach here come up to the castle almost every day and I havemy suspicions about them. One is a man called Hudson who is fromAmerica, and sells pictures there. He is clever and is greatfriends with the lord, because he praises that Rubens so much.The butler and James say he agrees with everything the lord says,to please him. I have only seen him once, but he looks to me likea man who would not waste his time so—for nothing. Theother man is his servant and is called Thompson and he givesmassage to Lady Deering. He has had refreshments many times withus, in our hall, and he is always asking questions abouteverything."

"Oh! why the windows have such big bolts, and why the doorsare so thick and where we all sleep. He asks what we are afraidof, and who sets the alarms, and isn't it a business to alwaysremember to turn them off in the mornings." Croupin nodded hishead significantly. "But I notice he does not ask questions nowwhen I am there. He does not like me, and he watches me. He sayshe is this Hudson's body servant but"—and the Frenchmanlaughed slyly—"he has more, to me, of the air of a man Iwould give work to if I were wanting to open a safe."

"Ah!" exclaimed Larose. "I have heard of them. Our friendJones is interested in them too."

"Then a third man," went on Croupin, "and he is this CaptainBonnett who is staying at the castle as a visitor. He is anunpleasant fellow. He wants that beautiful Ann, but she does notwant him." An eager note came into his voice. "You have seen Ann?Ah! you do not know. Well, she is like an angel. She has a figurebetter even than Bertha's. She has eyes that are pools of love.She has a mouth——"

"That'll do, that'll do," interrupted Larose sharply. "Now,what about this Bonnett man?"

"He knows more about Hudson than he makes out," repliedCroupin, "and secret signs pass between them when the lord is notlooking. James has caught them at it. And the servant, Thompson,sneers at Bonnett as if they were familiar and did not like eachother." He shook his head. "They look like a gang to me and areup there for something."

"Yes, but the servants say he is a bad lot. He has no moneyand there is much talk about him. He has been warned off theturf."

"Well, never mind him for the present," said Larose, "for he'snot likely to be the man we want, and we've something much moreimportant to think about." He rose to his feet. "Now, off you go,quick, and do nothing in the castle for the moment, except keepwatch. There's too much at stake for you to work alone. Can youget out and meet me anywhere to-morrow?"

"My afternoons are always free," replied Croupin. "Make ithere, at four o'clock."

"Good," said Larose, "and by then I'll have thought out someplan." He gripped the Frenchman by the arm. "It's in my mind,Monsieur, that you'll have to get me into that castle one night,without anyone seeing me, and open that secret door."

"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Croupin, "but it is impossible. The castleis all bolts and bars."

CHAPTER IX. — THE MYSTERY OF THE MOAT

HALF an hour after he had parted with Croupin,Larose was sitting just inside the corner of the small plantationwhere Naughton Jones had described to him the finding of themissing Sam Baxter's blood-stained cap.

The night was misty and vapour was rising from the marshes.There was a faint moon showing, but every now and then, it wasobscured by the clouds.

The detective had placed his folded mackintosh under him, forthe ground was very damp. He had a small pair of binoculars inhis hand, and from time to time, he lifted them to his eyes andsearched the marshlands round. He was only about three hundredyards distant from Thralldom Castle, but could not see where itsmighty walls sprang from the ground, because of the mist. He wasfrowning thoughtfully.

"Now it is incredible," he whispered, "but it must be we aredealing with a maniac, and as I surmise that all four of thesepeople were murdered in this locality, and am certain that two ofthem were killed, actually within a few yards of where I am nowsitting, it must be, again, that this is the particular placewhich he haunts." He nodded his head. "So if I am patient andcome here every night about this time when there is a moonshowing, sooner or later, I shall catch him and lay him by theheels, whether he be that butcher, the footman, or the bailiff,risen from the dead."

His thoughts ran on. "Croupin told a very straightforward taleand he is a shrewd fellow and can be relied upon. He is veryobservant and misses nothing." He lifted his glasses and sweptthem round in every direction. "Now according to him it was justsuch a night as this when the bailiff was killed. A fitful moon,hidden every other minute by the clouds and a heavy mist risingfrom the marshes. So, if this madman is looking for anothervictim, everything is propitious for him to be prowling aboutnow. Nothing could be more in his favour for——" Buthe suddenly became aware of a faint rustle behind him and hejerked up his head, in doubt as to whether it was only a rustleof the wind.

Now in after-days, it was always a bitter memory to Larosethat he had not been quite quick enough that night, when he satwatching upon the marshes of Thralldom, for, hitherto, it hadbeen the obsession of his life that he was always alert andready, and that in moments of danger or uncertainty his handwould slip to the safety catch of his automatic as quickly asthat of any man in the world.

But that night, at any rate, he was caught napping and, forjust the fraction of a second, he waited too long. And thisfraction of a second proved nearly fatal to him, for, the thoughtof possible danger at last avalanching itself upon him, he wasspringing to his feet, when he felt, rather than heard, the swishof something passing close by his head.

Whatever it was, it almost missed him altogether. It missedhis head but fell with a glancing blow upon the extreme edge ofhis shoulder, and he felt a pull as if someone were tearing athis jacket there, as some weapon hurtled forward and slapped onto the ground.

It had not hurt him in the least, but it had unbalanced him,and the next second, before he could recover himself, he wasgripped fiercely by the back of his neck, and almost lifted offhis feet by a hand of steel, was forced down until his face waspressing into the moist earth. Then he heard heavy, stertorousbreathing, and from the movements of his assailant, it seemed asif the latter were groping with his free hand for the weapon thathad slipped from his grasp.

The grip on the detective's neck was agonising, and a feelingof faintness surging through him, he realised that he was losingconsciousness, but with a last despairing effort, he struck aspasmodic blow behind him with the binoculars that he was stillgripping in his hand.

He felt them strike something and then, to his immense relief,his neck was instantly released. He heard a deep gasp, a groan ofpain, and then complete silence reigned.

For perhaps ten second he lay on exactly where he had fallen.Then, with shaky movements, he sat up and drew in a deep breath.He could not think coherently, and it felt as if his neck weredislocated, but the feeling of faintness had passed.

Gradually, at first, but then very quickly, he regained hissenses and he scowled with rage at the poor figure he had cut. Hehad missed the chance of a lifetime, he told himself. He had leteverything slip from him when he had almost had the assassinactually under his very hands.

Then suddenly, the miracle of his escape came to him, andgalvanised into activity by the possible danger that might bestill threatening, with many grimaces of pain, he crawled, withwhat speed he could, until he was a good twenty yards and moredistant from the spot where he had so narrowly escapeddisaster.

"I won't be caught napping again," he scowled, gritting histeeth, "and maybe, I have not finished with him yet. When thatcloud passes I may get another chance. The brute may be stillabout, for probably, I've winded him. I must not forget, however,that if it's dark for both of us, he knows the place better thanI do and is fighting upon his own ground," and he sat on as ifcarved in stone, straining his ears into the darkness, with hisfinger upon the trigger of his automatic.

One, two, five minutes passed, and still the moon was hidden.Then all at once the cloud passed, and everything was flooded ina ghostly light.

Holding his breath in his excitement, he darted his eyes roundand round in every direction, but for a few moments couldperceive no movement anywhere. Then suddenly, about a hundredyards away a shadow seemed to rise up from the ground and startedto glide slowly along by the edge of the plantation.

It was not near enough for the detective to use his automaticeffectively, and added to that, he was not minded to disclose hisown whereabouts, but he sprang to his feet and bending down sothat his body was almost doubled, darted after the shadow.

But the owner of the shadow, glancing back over his shoulder,apparently at once became aware that he was being followed, andchanging his direction instantly, he accelerated his pace andsped furiously down the slope, towards the deep belt of mist thatwas enveloping the base of the castle.

All his pains forgotten in his eagerness, Larose raced afterhim, but then, when he judged he could be only about seventy oreighty yards from the moat, the mist swallowed up the shadow andit was gone.

"Damnation!" swore the detective and he, too, plunged into themist, but he pulled himself up short after a few strides and withhis electric torch in one hand and his automatic held hip-high inthe other, stood stock still, hoping that his enemy would betrayhis whereabouts by some sound.

"He can't get far away," he whispered, "for we are right bythe moat now, and as there's every probability he's not got agun, things are distinctly in my favour, if he doesn't hearme."

A long minute went by in the ghostly silence and with thesweat dripping from his forehead, the detective was yet chilledto the bone by the icy vapour rising off the moat.

"A devilish unhealthy place," he muttered, "and I wonder theydon't all get ague in this castle." Then finding the inactionintolerable, he moved forward stealthily, step by step, until hishand came in contact with the wire fence encircling the moat. Herested the hand holding the torch upon the uppermost strand ofthe wire and then—his heart began to beat furiously.

He had felt the wire vibrating, as if someone else weretouching it and perhaps, feeling his way along by its help.

A long time now passed, hours it seemed to the detective,although he knew it could be only a matter of minutes. Then,suddenly, the wire was pulled taut, it oscillated violently, anda tremendous splash came from the moat—a splash as of somebig body plunging in.

Larose darted forward in the direction of the splash, andrisking everything now, flashed his powerful torch upon the blackwaters. They were rolling up in small waves against the bank,thousands of bubbles were rising to the surface and across themoat a huge eddy was spreading in ever-widening circles.

"Great Scott!" gasped Larose, "he's jumped in!" and justbeyond the rays of his torch, he fancied he could make out a darkshape moving under the water.

"The luck's been all with him," snarled the detective, "andhe's escaped me now."

But for several minutes he ran up and down and along the wirefencing all round the moat, flashing his torch in all directionsacross the water and straining his eyes everywhere, in the hopeof catching sight of the swimmer pulling himself up on theopposite bank. But he saw nothing, and he heard nothing, andgloom and silence surrounded him on every side.

"Now, was it that butcher?" he asked himself breathlessly,"and has he climbed out of the moat somewhere, and slipped off towhere he's hidden his car? That shadow might easily have been hisand that grip on my neck"—he felt it tenderly with hishand—"was just the grip of a man who could have felled anox." He frowned thoughtfully. "But he was out of condition. Hisbreathing was very hard."

He shivered violently. "Now, quick back to the inn and I'llring up Halesworth and then have a hot bath."

He set off at a sharp run away from the castle, but very soonbegan to slow down, for his neck was hurting and he was hamperedby having to hold it to one side, finding that, the leastuncomfortable position.

And then, all in a moment, the excitement of the manhunt againsurged through him. He threw off his pains in a lightning flash,and like a plummet, dropped into the ditch that bounded themeadow along which he had been running.

It was only by chance that he had seen him, and he sworeangrily at his own carelessness. He had happened to glance backto see how far he had come from the castle and then to hisamazement had become aware that he was being followed.

That the man who was now trailing him was his adversary of nothalf an hour ago, he was quite sure. It was true he had had onlythe briefest glimpse of his would-be murderer then, but thefigures of the two were identical, except that now this manbehind him appeared to be of less bulky build, which wouldnaturally be accounted for, he told himself, by the saturatedcondition of his clothes which would be clinging to him.

"He's mad, right enough," panted the detective, "quite mad,for no one but a madman would dare to make a second attempt andright out in the open this time. Well, we're pretty clear of themist here, and he has no chance of escaping as long as the moondoes not go in."

He raised himself up cautiously to look across the meadow but,to his dismay, could now see no sign of his pursuer, and so,after a moment's consideration, he started to crawl back alongthe bottom of the ditch.

"I'll get behind him," he muttered, "and I'll shoot on sight.But I'll shoot him in the legs."

A hundred yards of laborious crawling, looking up every tenyards or so but seeing no sign of his enemy, brought thedetective at last to the end of the ditch. Then he slowlystraightened himself, inch by inch, until his eyes were levelwith the grass upon the meadow and—his heart gave a greatbound.

The man was crouching, perfectly still, but from his attitudehe was in every way as much upon the alert as the detective. Hewas apparently, however, keeping watch in the otherdirection.

A thrill of exultant joy surged through Larose for he feltthat by his strategy he was now atoning for his failure earlierin the night.

"But a little too far off for a shot," he whispered with hisraised automatic before him, "and I don't like to risk it, forit's his legs I want."

And then came a quiet voice, close behind him. "Don't shoot,please, Mr. Larose, I paid three guineas for that coat and it'sstill serviceable, also that cap is an old favourite ofmine."

Larose almost jumped out of his skin and, jerking himselfround, thanked Heaven that the shadows hid the shame andmortification in his face.

It was Naughton Jones who was speaking and it was his coat andcap only that were hanging upon the bush.

"Oh! that's you, is it, Mr. Jones?" the detective repliedcarelessly, and repressing his rage with a tremendous effort. "Iwas ready for whoever it might have been." He spoke as if withsome concern. "But you will be catching cold without yourcoat."

The great investigator was by no means a romantic sight. Hewas minus cap and coat and his long lanky figure, now strippedalmost bare, was skeleton-like in its proportions. But his mannerwas just as pompous and pedantic as ever.

"Excellent!" he commented judicially. "You have, certainly, amost wonderful gift of recovery, Mr. Larose. I must have startledyou pretty considerably, and yet there is no trace of emotion nowin your voice." He sighed and went on with a great affectation ofhumility. "But I do not come out of it too well myself, for Ihave been trailing you for the last half mile, thinking you werethat man Rawlings. Your stoop and style of walking were not yournatural ones." He looked curiously at him. "But what's the matterwith your neck?"

"I have had fingers on it that I do not want to feel again,"replied Larose grimly, "and it was a near thing that I was notkilled, too, by that plantation where you found Baxter's cap."And then he proceeded to relate to Naughton Jones everything thathad happened.

Jones listened without any comment until he had finished andthen remarked: "Rawlings, of course. There cannot be the shadowof a doubt about it. He has got a hiding place somewhere upon theThralldom lands. He is a tall man, just six feet, but stoops alot. He is of great strength, and in his youth was a notedswimmer. You will find, if you enquire, that until a few yearsago, he used to dive off the end of Minsmere jetting everymorning, winter and summer, and he could stay under water for solong that strangers, observing his display, often began to thinkthat he was drowned."

"But where is he hiding then?" demanded Larose, without theslightest belief, however, in Jones's statement, and yet curiousto find out what the latter's ideas might be. "He must come outto eat and drink."

"Exactly," replied Jones sharply, "and that is what we have tofind out. I've got my eye upon that ruined Priory, but I have hadno luck there yet." He appeared to remember something. "Yes, andthere's something more that interests me now. You remember Imentioned to you this afternoon those three queer birds who arestaying at that house upon the foreshore. Well, one of them, theindividual who goes under the name of Martin Fenner, has beennosing round here upon these meadows to-night. I've seen himthree times, and he spent quite half an hour in that old hut bythe marsh road." The great investigator spoke very sternly. "I'mhalf inclined to call upon him tomorrow morning and ask him whathe means by it."

Larose shivered. "But I must be getting home," he said. "I'mwet through and want a hot bath."

"Good," commented Jones, "I'll walk with you, when I've pickedup my bicycle which is hidden in that long grass over there, andyou can be telling me what Lord Thralldom said to you thisafternoon as we go along." He tossed his head. "Not that it willalter my opinion in any way for I am convinced that Rawlings isour man."

"Oh! but my neck's sore!" exclaimed Larose. "The wretch hadfingers like steel claws."

Jones stopped and flashed his torch. "Let me have a look atit. I'm as good as a medical man." He handled the detective verygently and then pronounced his opinion. "It's only a bruise, andthere are no nail marks, and the skin is not even broken." Hespoke thoughtfully. "It seems that Rawlings must have beenwearing gloves, and you're fortunate, for his dirty finger nailsmight easily have given you a septic wound."

They parted at the inn and Larose found the landlord waitingup for him. A telephone call had come for him, the man said, butthe caller had left no message and had rung off without givinghis name. Larose immediately then rang up the Halesworth policestation and the inspector himself answered the call. Yes, thebutcher had driven out in his car at 9.42 with the proper numberplates on and and had gone as they had expected in the directionof Yoxford. He, the inspector, had at once warned the plain-clothes officer waiting at Darsham that the butcher was on theroad and the officer had immediately set out to meet him. But hehad not succeeded in getting in touch with him although, for anhour and a half and more he had patrolled the Halesworth-DarshamRoad. Finally, at 11.32 he had returned to Halesworth to reporthis non-success. Three minutes later, then, Turnbull had drivenup the road and turned into his yard. The Inspector was veryannoyed and would like to see Larose on the morrow to makefurther plans.

It was a long while before the detective dropped off to sleepthat night. His neck was hurting him and he was very troubled inhis thoughts.

"Yes, he is a madman, right enough, who is haunting thesemarshes," he said, "and that I have been in actual contact withhim, I can be quite sure, but that he is not Rawlings I amequally as sure. Rawlings is dead, and Croupin's testimony uponthat point, seems to me, conclusive. Then, in that case, who isthe man whose mind has given way? It may, of course, be thisWilliam, but for the moment there is only the very faintestsuspicion in his direction and, indeed, until it is strengthenedby further discoveries, it is of no value at all, except forinclining us to look pretty closely into all that gentleman'sactivities." He shook his head. "Still, William is worth lookingafter, apart from the idea of Croupin that he was walking likethat man did in the mist, because the very fact that he now hasaccess to the dungeons, suggests that he, of all others, may havecome upon that passage under the moat and so is able to go to andfro upon the Thralldom lands at night, whenever he will." Hethought for a long while. "Well, what about the butcher? It ismost unfortunate he was not picked up to-night, for it leaves usexactly in the position we were in before, except of course thatwe know he was abroad upon one of his mysterious expeditions andseen to be proceeding in this direction during the very hour whenI was attacked. As for his carrying his correct number plateswhen he started out, I think nothing of that. Of course he wouldalways do that, and only change into the false ones when he wasparking his car somewhere, preparatory to patrolling thesemarshes."

He rubbed his neck tenderly to ease the pain. "So, I'll go upto the castle to-day, on the chance of setting eyes on thisWilliam and to have another talk with Lord Thralldom at the sametime. I'll tell his lordship what happened to-night and upon theway in which he receives my news, will depend what confidences Ishall give him. If he does not take a serious view of the matter,which somehow I am inclined to think will be his attitude, Iwon't tell him anything about his footman, but will then justtrust wholly to Croupin's resource to get me into the castle, sothat I can make some investigations upon my own."

He laughed to himself. "As for the great Jones, well, he is socertain about Rawlings that it would be a pity to unsettle hismind, at any rate, for the present."

CHAPTER X. — THE MORNING AFTER

A FEW minutes after ten the next morning, Laroseset off at a good pace to walk to the castle. It was a lovelymorning, and he thought the exercise would do him good. He wasnot feeling much the worse for his adventure of the previousnight, except that his neck was very stiff and there was a big,ugly-looking bruise where he had been gripped so forcibly by hisunknown assailant.

When about a mile from the castle, he saw a young girl comingtowards him and, as they approached closer, he recognised her asthe one he had seen with young Harden, the previousafternoon.

"Miss Devenham, of course!" he ejaculated to himself, "andshe's almost as pretty as Croupin said, in fact, I think, she'squite."

The road was lonely and as a matter of country politeness, helifted his hat to her as he was passing. "Besides," was histhought, "I'd like to see her smile. A pretty girl is alwaysdoubly worth looking at when she smiles."

The girl acknowledged his courtesy with a little bow and, ashe had hoped she would, with a smile as well. Then suddenly, shestopped and to his surprise, addressed him.

"I beg your pardon," she said, in a voice like a silver bell,"but are you not the gentleman who gave Mr. Harden a liftyesterday afternoon?" and when the detective had smilinglyadmitted that he was, she added, "And did he by any chance leavea book in your car?"

Larose shook his head. "Not that I know of," he replied. "Iremember, however, that he had got a small parcel with him."

"Yes," she said, "but there should have been three books in itand there were only two. He had dropped one somewhere and hethought perhaps it might have been in your car."

"Well, I'll look for it when I get back," replied Larose, "andif I find it, I'll send it up to you. You are Miss Devenham, areyou not?"

"Yes," the girl replied, "and you are Mr. Larose from ScotlandYard. You are going up to see my uncle again?"

She looked a little doubtful. "I don't think he's up yet. Atany rate he wasn't half an hour ago. Some days," she explained,"when he's not feeling too well, he breakfasts in his room."

"Well, I can enquire," said Larose, "and if he can't see methis morning, I'll have to come back this afternoon."

The girl hesitated a moment and then spoke very quickly. "Butit's very dreadful about Mr. Rawlings, is it not? And I'm sosorry for his wife." She frowned prettily. "Do you think there'sany chance that he's still alive?"

"It's very hard to say," replied the detective. "The wholebusiness is very mysterious." He regarded her thoughtfully. "Ofcourse, you knew Mr. Rawlings?"

"Oh! yes!" she replied. "He and I were good friends. I aminterested in Botany and he used to collect wild flowers forme."

"What kind of man did you think he was," said Larose, "thatis, if you don't mind my asking you?" He bowed. "You see, MissDevenham, I ask you because I always think a woman is so often amuch better judge of character than a man. She doesn'tnecessarily reason, but she blunders on to the truthsomehow."

The girl pretended to look indignant. "She doesn't blunder atall, Mr. Larose, but she can generally tell at a glance what sortof person a man is." She smiled. "I wouldn't be talking to youhere, now, if I didn't think you were quite nice, although youare a detective."

Larose smiled back at the compliment. "Well, what sort of aman was Mr. Rawlings then?" he asked. "Was he nice too?"

"Yes, quite nice," was the reply. "He was quiet and reserved,but a very high-principled man. I have many times heard my unclesay he was the best servant he had ever had."

"Very much," she replied. She looked troubled. "But I think aspeople grow old, Mr. Larose, they are not quite as sympathetic asthey used to be. Uncle is seventy-five, and he seems to take theloss of Mr. Rawlings quite as a matter of course, and it's rathersad." She shook her head slowly. "His only anxiety now, seems tobe for his paintings, and from time to time, they are a greatworry to him. One day he is sure people have been watching roundthe castle all night, but the next, he forgets that, and has anew idea that thieves are coming up hidden in the tradesmen'svans."

"It must be very trying for all of you," said Larosesympathetically. "Now one question more, if you'll forgive me. Isit likely, do you think, that Mr. Rawlings did fall over thosecliffs?"

"Not at all likely," she replied instantly. "He'd lived allhis life here and knew quite well where the cliffs are dangerous.Besides, what should he have been doing upon the cliffs, morethan a mile away from his home at that time of night?" She lookedscornful. "I have always thought that suggestion ridiculous."

They chatted for a minute or two longer and then the girllooked at her wrist watch and with a smiling goodbye, turned towalk on. "And you won't forget to look for my book, will you?"she called out, glancing back over her shoulder. She blushedprettily. "It has my name in it, 'Ann Devenham'."

"A very charming young woman," remarked Larose as he walkedon, "and quite a shrewd one, too. She's certainly given me somethings to think about and one, that uncle of hers is a selfishand callous old man."

Arriving at the castle bridge, he paused before passing overand allowed his eyes to rove round upon the moat. "Now, that'sabout where he jumped in," he said thoughtfully, "for I rememberthat tower was right above me when I flashed my torch."

He looked meditatively at the wire fence over which hisadversary of the previous night had flung himself to gain thesanctuary of the water. It was stout and strong, and pinned downat the bottom, along its whole length, by large pieces of rocksthat had been laid down methodically at regular intervals. Theyhad evidently been placed there to keep the wires from lifting upshould cattle or sheep stray up against them.

Suddenly, he gave a sharp exclamation, for he had become awarethat the even row was broken and there was a gap where one of therocks should obviously have been.

He ran quickly down to the moat side and bending down over theground, uttered a cry that he had difficulty in stifling.

The missing rock had been only very recently removed for theedges of its bed were sharp and clear.

He clenched his hands together fiercely. "Oh! what a fool!What an abject fool I was!" he groaned. "Of course the wretchthrew this rock over to make me believe he'd jumped in and thenwhen I was dancing about, staring at the ripples it had made, hegot away. He took in the large size of the hole left in theground. But, by James, he must be a strong man to have been ableto lift a rock like that, and no wonder I was helpless when he'dgripped me by the neck."

In a few moments his anger had abated and he moved away with agrim smile upon his face. "Gilbert! Gilbert!" he murmured, "andyou even thought that you saw him moving under the water."

Ringing the castle bell, the door was answered by a footman,whom he knew instantly must be William.

The man was tall, and, of a lithe, greyhound-like build, wasquite refined in his appearance. His forehead was high and he hada good-shaped nose, but his complexion was dead white and he haddark eyes of a peculiarly constricted shape. His mouth wasstraight and he held his lips pressed tightly together.Altogether he was not unhandsome but his expression was stealthyand not pleasing, and his eyes suggested that he would be alwayswatching what other people did.

The detective asked to see Lord Thralldom, adding that he hadcalled the previous afternoon and was an officer from ScotlandYard.

The footman's face betrayed no interest. "I'll tell him, sir,"he said, and he took Larose into a small room just off theentrance hall and retired noiselessly, closing the door behindhim.

"So that is William," thought Larose, "and he would just fitthe bill everywhere we want him to. He's crafty and secretive ifever I saw anyone that was, and the expression of those eyes isnot normal, but he's capable and determined and that forehead ofhis means that he can think and plan." He stroked his neckgingerly. "Well, this afternoon Croupin will tell me whether thegentleman went out of his room again last night."

"His lordship will see you, sir," he said, "if you will followme," and he led the way up a broad flight of stairs, to the doorof a room upon the first floor.

"Whew!" whistled Larose softly to himself, "the castle may behundreds of years old, but everything in this part is new, and noexpense has been spared either."

The room the detective was ushered into was very large. It wascomfortably furnished with every modern convenience and the onlyantique thing was a huge four-poster bed with a high canopy atthe far end.

"The dickens!" thought Larose, "and I suppose then, that thatis the great ancestral bed upon which long generations of theThralldoms have been born."

The owner of the castle was sitting up in the bed wearing adressing-gown of cardinal red, but clad even as he was, he hadevidently no intention that anyone should forget he was the greatlord of Thralldom, and he glared now out of his fierce eyes, as aman accustomed to regard only his inferiors.

"So you've come to trouble me again, have you?" he saidinstantly, in commanding tones, and giving the detective no timeto speak first.

"I'm very sorry, your lordship," replied Larose in asconciliatory a manner as possible, "but I have an importantcommunication to make to you, and when you have heard what I haveto say, I am sure you will excuse me."

"I should like to make it to your lordship alone," repliedLarose with a glance in the direction of the footman who wasstanding motionless and seemingly uninterested, by thebedside.

Lord Thralldom lowered his eyebrows frowningly, and thennodded to the footman. "You can go, William," he said, and whenthe man had left the room he repeated his enquiry with someirritation.

"I regret to have to inform you, my lord," began Larose, "butI have every reason to believe that your bailiff was murdered.He——"

"Murdered!" ejaculated Lord Thralldom incredulously. "Then youhave found the body?"

"No," replied the detective, "I have only evidence, so far,that it is probable he met with foul play, for a few minutesafter the time when it is known he left his home that night, acry was heard upon the marshes and——"

"A cry!" exclaimed Lord Thralldom interrupting again. Helooked scornful. "Why, that's nothing. Plenty of cries are heardupon the marshes at night. Stoats, weasels, foxes and rabbits andmany other creatures make their noises there. The hours ofdarkness are never still."

The detective spoke very quietly. "But this was a human cry,my lord, and a witness is prepared to come forward and state thatthere were two men upon the marshes that night, and, after thecry, one of them was carrying the other."

Lord Thralldom's eyes were now half-closed and inclining hishead sideways, he looked in a strange and curious manner at thedetective.

"Oh! he is, is he?" he said slowly, and there was thesuspicion of a sneer in his voice. "Then who is this witness andwhat was he himself doing upon the marshes at that time ofnight?" The sneer gave place to anger and his voice rose. "He wasa trespasser on my lands."

"I am not prepared, for the moment, my lord," replied thedetective, "to disclose who my informant was, but I assure youthat he is a reliable person."

Lord Thralldom straightened himself up in a grand gesture ofdisdain. "Well, no matter, I don't believe a word of it," he saidemphatically. He smiled suddenly in a quite genial manner. "Youmust know, sir, that upon an occasion such as this, when anymystery presents itself, there are always people ready to comeforward and say they've seen one thing or heard another." Hisvoice became scornful again. "It is the opportunity of theircommon lives to crawl into the limelight, and they are ready toswear anything for purposes of publicity."

"But that is not all, my lord," exclaimed Larose sharply, "forwe have every reason to believe another man met a dreadful deathupon the same marshes, less than three weeks ago." He paused amoment to let his words sink in and then continued very slowly."The cap of the innkeeper of Yoxford, who disappeared then, wasfound near the same spot where those two men were seen, and itwas cut and bloodied, as if he too, had come to a violentend."

Lord Thralldom had listened as if he had not been taking inwhat the detective was saying, and he now regarded him with apuzzled stare.

"Yes," went on Larose sternly, "and we cannot ignore thesignificance of these two happenings. Each one, singly, issuspicious, but the two together, are very damning evidence thatall is not right about here."

"Baxter, who kept the Yoxford Arms," replied the detective."He's been missing now for nearly three weeks and the cap, withhis initials in it, was picked up close by the small plantationby the marshes, not 300 yards from here."

"And what was he doing on my land?" burst out Lord Thralldom,his anger flaming up again.

"Poaching," replied Larose, "or, at least, it is supposed hecame here after hares."

"And who found the cap?" went on Lord Thralldom. He scoffed."The same witness as before, I suppose, the one who saw the bodyof my bailiff being carried away."

"No," replied Larose instantly, "quite a different man thistime, but one whose evidence is equally reliable." He spoke verysternly. "But I have more, yet, to tell you, Lord Thralldom, forthere is a third happening to record that I can verify myself."He stepped up to the bed and bending down, turned his headsideways, so that Lord Thralldom could see his neck.

"Look at that bruise, my lord. I myself was attacked lastnight upon the same spot and, from the ferocity of the attack,was fortunate to have escaped with my life."

Lord Thralldom's face was a study. His lips were parted, hiseyes were wide and staring, and his whole expression was one ofdumbfounded surprise.

"Yes," went on the detective, "someone sprang upon me when Iwas sitting by that plantation of larches. He struck at me withsome weapon, but he missed me and then tried to choke me, when hehad got me on the ground."

Lord Thralldom could hardly get his breath. "But it isincredible," he gasped, "unless he were one of some gang who isafter my paintings." He hesitated a moment and then askedhoarsely, "But what kind of man was he? Did you see hisface?"

"No," replied the detective, "unhappily I did not. I got outof his clutch but he was too cunning for me, and escaped in themist." He went on. "And that can only mean, my lord, that somemadman is haunting these marshes at night. We can be almostcertain that he has killed two people"—he paused amoment—"and there may be others that he has killed aswell."

Lord Thralldom had calmed down and now spoke very quietly."And what were you doing, sir, by the plantation?" he asked.

"I was watching," replied Larose, "for I had already come tothe conclusion that a madman is making a nightly round there andthat it is dangerous ground."

Lord Thralldom meditatively regarded the detective for amoment, and then he sighed as if he were very troubled.

"Show me that bruise again, please," he said and then whenLarose had complied he went on: "And now, I'll tell you what Ithink it was." He seemed quite himself again, now, and smiledgrimly. "You interrupted a courting couple, sir; that is all,and, as is not unusual at such times, the man lost his temper.You flashed a torch, perhaps, and the man thought you were spyingupon them—with the result he tried to punish you."

The detective was too angry to mind his words. "Yoursuggestion is childish, my lord," he said sharply, "and unlessyou are wilfully refusing to face the facts, the attitude you aretaking up is not understandable. You must realise that bloodymurder has been done upon your lands and that the murderer isstill at large, and lurking somewhere, a menace to everyone whopasses by."

"In the hours of the night, you should add," was the sternrejoinder, "when folks of decent character are in bed and nottrespassing, for nefarious purposes, upon other people's lands."His whole demeanour altered suddenly and he sank back limply uponthe pillows. "But what, in any case, has it to do with me, andhow can I prevent it? I am an old man, sir, and my health is notgood"—he was almost pathetic now in his distress—"andwhy do you come worrying me? You are a policeman and it is yourbusiness to find out these things. So, please find them out andleave me alone."

"But you can help me." said the detective sternly, "and it isyour duty to do so."

"Help you!" exclaimed Lord Thralldom piteously. "How can Ihelp you when I can only walk with difficulty and am a frail, oldman?"

"You know every part of your property?" asked the detective inbusiness-like tones.

Lord Thralldom looked astounded, and was animated at once."Know every part of my property!" he repeated. He lookedscornful. "Every yard of it, sir, every foot." His eyes dilated."Why, as a boy I played in every wood and every meadow and, as aman every part of the estate came under my supervision. I plantedthose very larches even where you say you were attacked."

"Nowhere," was the instant reply. "Nowhere, when as you say,the fellow has been hiding for weeks. It is quite impossible." Hespoke contemptuously. "There are no caves, nor caverns uponThralldom where a murderer could hide away and sally forth atnight as a beast of prey."

"But there are said to be secret hiding places, my lord," saidLarose sharply, "both in the castle and among the ruins of thePriory as well."

Lord Thralldom sat up with a jerk. "Kitchen talk," he sneered."The gossip of the scullery and the servants' hall." His eyesglared suddenly. "But you don't seriously suggest, do you, thatanyone here in the castle is masquerading as an assassin atnight?"

Larose smiled as if the very idea was absurd. "But as anofficer of the law," he replied, "it is my duty to make allenquiries about everybody and everything in a quarter where wesuspect crime has been done." He eyed Lord Thralldom intently."Now, my lord, is there a secret passage under the moat leadinginto the castle from the Thralldom lands?"

"Certainly not," replied Lord Thralldom emphatically, addingsarcastically, "Or at least not one that is known to me or hasbeen known to any of my ancestors for eight hundred years."

"And the walled-in parts of the castle," went on thedetective, "are inaccessible to everybody?"

"Except to me," was the reply. "I, of course, possess a key tothe door that opens to them, but I have not unlocked it for anumber of years."

There was silence for a moment and then the detective asked:"And your servants are quite trustworthy?"

Lord Thralldom nodded. "As far as I know. They all came to mewith excellent references. I saw well to that."

An amused chuckle came from the bed. "The longest, the butler,for five months, and the shortest, Antoine, the chef, for fiveweeks. You must understand, sir," went on Lord Thralldom "thatwhen I acquired my Rubens, last March, I took every conceivableprecaution that it should not be stolen. I expressly brought overan electrician from Berlin, to do all the wiring of the alarms,and I only employed him upon the distinct understanding that hecould not speak a word of English. Then, with his work completed,in order that no hints as to the system of the wiring should leakout, I got rid of all my servants at a day's notice, butler,footmen, maids, every one of them. I made a clean sweep."

"Came from Lord Tenterden, James from Sir Charles Saxby, andWilliam from the household of an old friend of mine, ProfessorDangerton, the great archaeologist." He nodded. "I was very luckyto get William, for the professor had died only the previousweek."

"Yes, and a most valuable servant," was the reply. "He valetsme and I have come to depend upon him for many things. He is amost intelligent man."

Lord Thralldom now became much more communicative, in hismanner, and all traces of his irritation having passed, heanswered with no hesitation, a number of further questions thatthe detective put.

"But mind you," he said presently, "although I think thisnotion of yours about people being killed upon my lands is allnonsense, still," and a strange faraway look came into his eyes,"when I shall have thought over what you tell me happened to youlast night, I admit it may be very disturbing to my peace ofmind,"—he nodded his head very solemnly—"because, formany months it has been my considered opinion that strangers arewatching round the castle here. But they would not be madmen," headded quickly, "far from it. They are shrewd, keen, level-headedmen, waiting to catch me unawares," his voice trailed away to atroubled sigh, "and rob me of my Rubens."

Larose sighed too. "No help for me in this quarter," hethought sadly as he rose to take his leave. "He's a cranky oldman, and to take him into my confidence would be fatal at once. Ican only depend on Croupin now, here in the castle."

He had another good look over the footman as the latter wasshowing him out, pausing at the hall door for a shortconversation.

"And what doyou make out of Mr. Rawlings'sdisappearance?" he asked, coming at once to the point.

The man's body remained quite immovable, but his eyes, undertheir half-closed lids, shifted restlessly from side to side. "Imake nothing out of it, sir," he replied quietly. "It is verymysterious."

"Oh! you think it very mysterious do you?" said Larose. "Well,is it your idea that he fell over the cliffs?"

"I have no idea at all, sir," was the reply, "but that seemsto be the general opinion."

They talked for a few minutes, but Larose could get nosatisfaction out of him. The man was ready and polite with allhis answers and most respectful, too, in his demeanour, and therewas nothing in any way to suggest that he had anything but themost casual interest in the bailiff's disappearance. He seemed tobe merely what he purported to be—a deferential and well-trained gentleman's servant.

"And yet we know," ran the detective's thoughts, when finallyhe was upon his way back to the inn, "that he is leading a doublelife, and under that calm and unruffled exterior, is a man whogoes nightly upon his mission of theft." He started to nod hishead and then winced. "Yes, and with all his gentlemanlyappearance, only a few hours back his fingers may have been uponmy neck with all the ferocity of a wild beast." He sighed. "Well,I have nothing much to tell Croupin this afternoon, except that Ihave been nearly killed, and that by hook or by crook he mustsmuggle me into the castle to-night."

CHAPTER XI. — THE VAULTS OF THRALLDOM CASTLE

THAT same evening, just after half past eight,Monsieur Antoine, the amiable and very efficient chef ofThralldom Castle, was entertaining James, the footman, in theformer's little private sanctum just off the kitchen regions. Abottle of wine and two glasses stood upon the table before them,and that there had been no lack of the wherewithal for goodfellowship was evidenced by an empty bottle that lay upon thefloor beside them.

James looked hot and red in the face, but the Frenchman was ascool as a cucumber, and brimming over with the vivacity of hisrace.

"But drink up, James, old boy," he said, filling up thefootman's glass. "Zere is no headache in a whole bottle of zis."He poked his companion in the ribs. "But it is good that I have akey of ze cellar for I am good judge of wine."

The footman laughed thickly. "Oh! you're a good judge, rightenough, Froggy," he exclaimed, "and not half as stingy as thelast bloke was. We could screw nothing out of him."

The chef patted him upon the shoulder. "But I do good serviceto zis great lord of Thralldom in seeing zat you have a little ofhis wine, for wine is good for ze stomach and with a goodstomach, you work better for him."

"You're right, Froggy," nodded the footman. "Feed me well andI'll work well. That's my motto every time." He looked knowinglyat the chef. "But you're flash. You're all togged up to-night.Got a date with a skirt, somewhere?"

"Hush! hush!" he hissed sharply, "not a whisper! Not a word!"His eyes sparkled joyfully and he put his mouth down close to theother's ear. "Yes, I have an appointment, to-night"—hespread himself out like a peacock—"wis a lovely girl."

The footman breathed heavily. "Gee! but you're lucky. Whattart is it?" he asked.

Monsieur Antoine shook his finger playfully. "No, I not tellyou, Meester James, for I have fear of you. If my girl see you, Inot know what would happen." He poured out another glass of wine."But drink up, son. I must leave by nine o'clock for I meet zisgirl at nine and a quarter." He threw up his eyes. "Oh! but sheis lovely." He looked searchingly at the footman. "You havekissed many girls?"

The footman's rather stupid face looked annoyed. "I've askedplenty," he began, "but——"

"Asked!" almost shrieked the Frenchman. "Oh! James, ze greatmistake." He spoke very earnestly. "Nevaire, nevaire ask a womanfor a kiss, for she have never love for a man who ask her." Helifted up one finger impressively. "Take hold her hand, James,and if she do not draw it away, zen you know you can kiss her,quick, for she is all for you at once." He looked horrified. "Butask! No, nevaire ask. It is indelicate and it offend ze modestyof ze girl."

The footman looked muddled. "Oh! that's the dodge is it? Goodfor you, Froggy." He blinked his eyes alcoholically. "I'll try itnext time."

The Frenchman took out his watch and then rose sharply to hisfeet. "But see, I must not wait." He placed his hand upon hisheart. "Love calls."

"Lucky beggar!" grunted the footman. "Alone with a tart, to-night. I wish I was you."

"Now, listen, James," said the chef, and speaking now with asharp note of authority in his tone, "you must do exactly as Itell you, and if you do not, not anozzer drop of wine for you aslong as I am here." He buttoned up his jacket in a business-likeway. "I am to meet zis girl at nine and a quarter, I tell you,and if she is not zere, zen I know her mother will not let herout and she will not come." He nodded his head emphatically. "So,I come back at once, you understand?"

"All right," said the footman. "I'll let you in. I shall be atthe door all the evening."

"Yes, and let me in quickly, too," went on the Frenchman, "forI shall be angry and not want to speak to anyone. I will not ringze bell. I will tap on ze window of your little room and mind yoube ready for me."

"All right, I'll be ready, Froggy," replied James, nowblinking his eyes more than ever. "I may be having a littlesnooze then."

"And if I meet her," exclaimed the chef, raising his eyesecstatically, "it will be just before ten when I come in and zenI will tap on ze window too."

"And don't you be later," said the footman, frowning, "for youknow old Thralldom may be starting on the prowl. What!" he wenton, "you're taking your mackintosh. What for? It's a fine nightand not going to rain."

"It might," said the Frenchman. He grinned delightedly andlowered his voice. "Besides, it will come in for sittingdown."

James winked to the full extent that the wine he had imbibedwould allow him, and accompanying the amorous chef into the hall,let him out of the front door.

"Now, mind and be ready," were the last whispered instructionsof the latter, "for I don't want ze lord to know I am out. Hecomplain zis morning that I go out too much, and want to knowwhat for. You bring your wine into your little room and finish itzere. See, don't switch on ze lights when I come in."

The Frenchman gone, the footman made himself comfortable inthe small room just off the hall and had soon finished up thewine. "And I could drink another bottle of it," was his grumblingcomment. He smiled stupidly as he sank back into a big chair."Still, Froggy's not a bad sort, and wouldn't old Thralldomgrouse if he knew the booze I've had."

He closed his eyes luxuriously, and in a few minutes his deepsnores were testifying eloquently to the potency of the wine hehad imbibed.

But he had not slept ten minutes, it seemed only one to him,when his dreams were disturbed by a gentle tapping upon thewindow.

"Let me in, James," came the sharp voice of the chef. "I amall tears for she have not come."

Rising a little unsteadily to his feet, the footman totteredto the steel grille and unlocked it. Then he fumbled for a fewmoments with the catch of the big door.

"Quick, quick," called out the chef angrily. "I am in badtemper for zat lovely girl have cruel mother and she would notlet her come. Do not speak to me for I am full of tears."

The door was opened at last and, without a word of thanks, amackintoshed figure, with cap well pulled down over its eyes,darted through.

"Straight on to the end of the hall," it muttered in a voicevery different from that of the musical one of the chef. "Thenround to the right for about ten paces, then to the left and upthe staircase at the end of the passage, then to the left again,and it is the fourth door on the right. Good! and I am to treadlike a cat and get under the bed."

The footman closed the big door and, relocking the grille,returned to his interrupted alcoholic slumber. His head wasbeginning to ache.

He slept for more than half an hour this time, without anydisturbance and then was awakened by a sharp pinging on the bellwithin a few feet of his ear.

"Blast!" he exclaimed, looking hazily at the clock. "It'snearly ten and who the blazes is ringing at this time. They'reall in, in the castle."

He passed through the steel grille and, approaching close tothe big door, demanded, according to his usual instructions, whowas there.

"It is I, booby," came the angry voice of the chef. "You havekept me waiting and I told you not to. I tap ze window and younot hear it, an I have to ring ze bell."

The footman fell back aghast. "What do you mean?" he calledout, sobered in his surprise. "It's not Antoine. You've been inan hour ago."

"Open ze door, you fool," hissed the Frenchman, "and speaksoftly. You'll wake all ze house."

"But I've let you in once already," insisted the footman. "Yousaid you'd not met the girl."

"You great fool," returned the chef. "You have been dreaming.You have had too much to drink. I have been with ze girl all zistime and she was lovely. I tell you about it when I am in. Openze door, quick."

And then, suddenly, James heard a movement in the hall andturning, saw the gaunt figure and grim visage of Lord Thralldomjust behind him.

"Open ze door, James," called out the chef, his voice nowrising almost to a shout. "It is I, Antoine and if you do notopen quickly, I nevaire have you in my little room again andnevaire give you more——"

"It's Monsieur Antoine, my lord," exclaimed the flusteredJames, speaking now himself very loudly, and anxious that at allcosts his master should hear nothing about the wine. He addedspitefully, "He's very late."

"Open the door, then," was his lordship's command, and thenwhen James had complied, and the chef came tripping blithely intothe hall, the latter was pulled up in consternation at the sightof the scowling face of the lord of the castle.

"And did I not, only this morning," boomed Lord Thralldomfiercely, "express my displeasure at the many occasions uponwhich you went out at night?"

The Frenchman was all excuses and apologies, "But it was zetoothache, to-night, my lord," he explained volubly, "and I go tothe doctaire to have it pulled out. Look, see," and pressing ahandkerchief to his lips, he withdrew it, with the stain of bloodshowing.

"Oh!" grunted Lord Thralldom, and he frowned as if annoyedthat there was something in the excuse.

"Yes, my lord," went on the chef, "I was in pain, and in fearthat my cooking would be spoilt."

"Well, don't go out at night any more for a week," grunted hislordship again, "and don't make your Tartare sauce so thick infuture. I don't like it," and waiting until he had seen thefootman close the doors upon the bridge, he strode out of thehall.

The chef made a grimace behind his back and then turnedfrowningly to the footman. "But what is up with you, my son?" heasked. "You have too much wine and got drunk. Zat is it and youget me into trouble with ze lord."

James was angry, with the anger of a man with a thick head."I'll swear," he said huskily, "that I let you in an hour ago."He blinked his eyes hard. "Now where's that mackintosh you wentout with?"

"Hush! hush!" exclaimed the chef with his eyes twinkling inamusement. "I lend it to ze girl to cover her white dress wiz. Itshow too much in the dark." He threw out his handsdisconsolately. "And I forgot to ask for it back. Nevaire mind,"he went on. "I get it back on Sunday." He seemed suddenly toremember something. "Oh! she want to see you, and I am to takeyou wiz me next time. You will come?"

But the footman was not to be so easily mollified, and it wasnot until Monsieur Antoine had produced two stiff liqueurbrandies from his private cupboard, that James would consent toview things in their proper light.

"I was half-shickered, Froggy, that's what it was," heexplained thickly, "and my legs feel all wobbly now. Help me tobed, old man, and I'll sleep it off."

The forgiving Frenchman did as he was requested, but not untilhe was certain from the footman's heavy snores that the latterwas finally settled for the night, did he seek the sanctuary ofhis own room.

"It is all right, Mr. Larose," he whispered delightedly, asthe detective crept out from under the bed, "I managed it fine,"and he proceeded with many chuckles, to relate everything thathad happened.

"You are a great artist, Monsieur," commented the detective,smilingly, "and if only you turned your talents into the rightdirection, you might become as renowned as Mr. Jones."

Croupin screwed up his eyes. "Oh! but it was droll to see thatlook on James's face, and it was difficult to persuade him thathe had been dreaming. He was most suspicious about it." Hegrinned in amusement. "Really, that James is more intelligentwhen he is tipsy than when he is sober." His grin broadened andhe looked slily at the detective. "And it is droll, too, that Ishould now be helping a great detective from Scotland Yard tobreak into a nobleman's castle."

Larose frowned. "It is not breaking in, Croupin, and I am herein the interests of the law. I consider it best for all concernedto act in this way." He brushed the matter aside. "And now we cando nothing until after midnight, you are sure?"

"Quite sure," replied Croupin, "for it is never certain thatthe lord has gone to his room until after then. He prowls up anddown the corridors; he goes and sits for an hour in the galleryworshipping his Rubens, or else, he drags himself up on to thebattlements with some big field-glasses that he has." He noddedhis head solemnly. "I tell you, I have had some narrow escapes ofmeeting him."

"Ah! William has privileges," was the reply, "and he canalways have the excuse that he is about to see if the lord wantsanything. He does a lot for the lord, and can be always sure whenthe lord is in bed and it is safe for him to go down to thechapel. Some nights the coast will have been clear for him soonafter ten, but it will always be clear after midnight."

"Where is that music coming from?" asked the detectivesuddenly, lifting up his hand.

"It is Ann," replied Croupin, "and she is playing upon theorgan in the chapel. We are not far from the chapel here." Hepaused a moment to listen. "It is a funeral dirge she is playing.She is very sad."

For a little while they sat silent as the glorious strains ofthe Dead March in 'Saul' came up softly to their ears, but withthe ending of the march, the music ceased.

"It was an omen, perhaps," sighed Croupin, "for are not weourselves going down among the dead? They say that twenty-threeof the lords are buried in the vaults and all of their ladiestoo. Yes," he went on, turning his thoughts now back to themusic, "the beautiful Ann is very sad. She has a lover and hecame up to see her yesterday but after he had gone, the lord andher stepmother were angry with her. The stepmother told her shewas to have no hopes of him because he was only a clerk in theSaxmundham bank, and one day she was to marry a man of a higherbirth. James listened at the door and heard it all."

"Well," remarked the detective, "if I am any judge ofcharacter, she'll have her own way whatever they say."

"Her stepmother is not fond of her," remarked Croupin, "and isoften angry with her. James listens a lot at the doors, I tellyou."

The detective was restless and kept looking at his watch. "Andyou are sure," he asked, "that William is safe for thenight?"

"Fifteen grains of veronal again," smiled Croupin, "and he issleeping like a dead man. I put it in his coffee and looked tosee that he drank it too." He nodded. "I wish I'd given him adose last night, then he would not have half-broken your neck. Iam sure it was William who attacked you, and I grieve that I wentto bed directly I got in. But I was so tired because I had nosleep at all the night before and could hardly keep my eyesopen." He snapped his fingers together. "So, with the lord in bedearly, too, with a bad cold, William could have been in thedungeons by ten o'clock and passed the whole night there."

The minutes dragged slowly by but, at last, Larose rosebriskly. "Come on," he said. "It's time now. I make it a goodquarter past twelve."

Croupin opened the door very softly and then, for a longwhile, stood with his head craned forward listening.

"It is all right," he whispered at last. "Now hold tightly tothe bottom of my jacket. It will be pitch dark but I know everyfoot of the way and shall not have to flash my torch."

They were both wearing rubber shoes and, by touch only, theycrept down the stairs, feeling along the walls of the longcorridor leading to the chapel door.

"Now wait," Croupin breathed softly. "They lock this door whenthey remember it and then the key is hung in the hall, but unlessthe lord is with them they don't generally trouble. Ah! it is notlocked to-night and so our adventure commences well."

They crept into the chapel like shadows and closed the doorbehind them. They were still in inky blackness, for the night wasstormy and no moonlight was filtering through the stained-glasswindows.

Then, at last, Croupin flashed his torch, trailing the light,however, cautiously upon the floor.

"Quite sure," Croupin whispered back. "I killed a fly andstuck it upon the wall the breadth of my left hand from where thepanel opens. If the fly's dropped off, I shall still see the markof blood."

But the fly had not dropped off and some thrilling secondsfollowed. Then Croupin found the right spot and, with a slightgrating noise, the panel slid back and showed a gaping aperturejust wide enough to admit a man.

Both their hearts beat tumultuously. "I'll go in first,"whispered Larose, "and then we must make sure how it opens frominside before we shut it."

But there was no mystery about that for there was an oak knobupon the inner side of the panel, and so they very quickly pulledit to behind them and started to descend the narrow spiralstaircase that they saw before them.

"Splendid! Meester Larose," ejaculated Croupin withenthusiasm. "We are wonderful when we work together, you and I.Everything runs smoothly, like the ticking of a clock."

"Yes," replied the detective complacently, "we take somerisks, certainly, but we minimise those risks as much as wecan."

But they would not by any means have been so assured in theirminds had they been aware of what was taking place in the chapelat that moment.

A white-faced and badly frightened girl was sitting boltupright in the high chair before the organ there, staring wide-eyed at the wall through which they had just passed.

Ann Devenham had fallen asleep when she had finished playingthe Dead March in 'Saul,' the solitary candle above the keys hadburnt itself out, and the girl had awakened suddenly to catch afleeting glimpse of Croupin as he was passing through the secretdoor behind Larose.

For a minute and longer, unwilling to believe the evidence ofher eyes, she sat on as if paralysed and then regaining the useof her limbs, she sprang up with a little sob of terror and,groping her way out of the chapel, tore along the more familiarpassages outside, finally locking herself, breathlessly, in herown room.

In the meantime, all unknowing of what was happening behindthem, the detective and Croupin had descended the winding stairs.Eighteen of them, they counted, and then they were brought updead against what appeared to be a solid wall. But the detectiveat once noticed upon one of the big stones that faced them, asmall patch that was darker than anywhere else.

"That's where they press," he whispered, "and there should befinger-marks." He hesitated a moment. "But it doesn't matter," hewent on, "for we know who comes down here," and he immediatelypressed upon the dark patch with his open hand.

The stone revolved at once, easily and without noise, and theystepped into a long corridor whose ends were lost in darkness inboth directions. The roof of the corridor was low and not muchhigher than their heads. Its walls were made of big blocks ofstone, roughly hewn; its floor was also of stone, but there, thelong flags were smooth and fitting closely into one another.

A peculiar smell at once assailed their nostrils, dank andstinging, as of a cellar in which the air had not been stirredfor many years.

"Oh! what a dreadful place!" exclaimed Croupin with a shudder."And what a graveyard smell!" His voice rose in horror. "And, oh!look at those rats!"

He might well exclaim, for with the flashing round of theirtorches, myriads of rats seemed to have sprung out fromeverywhere. They dashed out of the open doors that gaped into thecorridor, they raced along the ledges just under the low roof,and they scampered over the very feet of the intruders in theirfrantic efforts to hide themselves, as speedily as possible fromthe fight.

"Never mind the rats," said the detective, "they won't hurtus. But we mustn't let this smell get up into the chapel," andcarefully noting its position, he pushed round the big stoneuntil it was flush again with the other stones in the wall of thecorridor. "See how beautifully it fits," he went on, "no wonderthey smell nothing up there." He tucked the ends of his trousersinto his socks and smiled as if he were quite pleased witheverything. "Now, friend Croupin, at any rate we'll find outwhere that precious footman of yours has been digging for thetreasure."

But they soon realised they had an almost superhuman taskbefore them, for the dungeons and other chambers seemedinnumerable, and there were passages branching off from the maincorridor, that led in all directions.

They went into dungeon after dungeon but their conditions wereall the same. Empty, as they probably had been for hundreds andhundreds of years, with only their big iron staples, embedded inthe walls, and lengths of gruesome-looking rusted chains totestify to what dreadful uses they had been put in years goneby.

"Look at those doors, Monsieur," whispered Larose. "There areno locks to them that you or I could have picked. They are justbanged to, and those heavy bars fall into their socketsautomatically, and there is no opening them from inside."

They came, at length, to four broad steps and descended bythem into a chamber, larger and loftier than any they hadhitherto been in. It was paved with large oblong stones and manyof them had been cut by deep lettering.

Larose flashed his torch upon the flags. The lettering wornand corroded by the years, was yet quite decipherable upon manyof them.

"Maurice, seventh lord of Thralldom, 1374," he read. "Thomas,tenth lord of Thralldom, 1493. Berenice——" Butsuddenly he darted forward and bent low over the stones. "Look,look," he exclaimed with a catch in his voice, "this stone hasbeen lifted recently, this grave of Berenice." He clutchedCroupin by the arm. "It is here that William got that crucifixand those bracelets. He has been rifling the graves."

There was no doubt that the flag had been interfered with, forits edges were chipped and broken, and the intervening mortarscraped away. There was also a deep hole where a crowbar hadevidently been inserted in a final effort to lift up theflag.

"And it is not the only one that has been lifted," criedCroupin excitedly. "Those others have been tampered with. See,that and that."

In all then, they found four flags had been lifted and thechipping round of a fifth begun.

"And but for that dose of veronal," grinned the Frenchmanpointing to the last stone, "this night the bones of Alicia wouldhave been rattling in her coffin."

The detective made no comment. He was searching behind a heapof crumbling stones and rubbish at one end of the vault.

"And here are his tools," he said. "A spade, a crowbar, ahammer and chisels and a paraffin lantern"—he examined thewick—"recently trimmed."

He sat down and considered everything for a few minutes. "Butthis does not help us in the least," he said finally. "I want tofind a passage leading from under the moat to somewhere on theThralldom lands, and unless I do, all the risks I am taking withyou will have been wasted." He sprang to his feet again. "Come,Monsieur, it is half past two and the night will not last forever. We must search quickly."

"But where are we to begin the search?" asked the Frenchmandespairingly. He threw out his hands. "It will take months to goover all these dreadful places."

Larose looked anxious, for remembering the accuracy with whichthe revolving stone had been fitted, he realised it would be astupendous task to examine the walls everywhere, with the minutecare that would be required to find another opening—if,indeed, it existed.

And then, suddenly, his eyes fell carelessly upon a broad,stone slab that had been built into the wall just at the entranceto the vaults. It was about three feet in height and hadevidently been placed there to rest the coffins upon when theywere brought into the vaults and before they were lowered intothe graves.

He regarded it without interest for a moment, but his eyes,trained by his life's work to notice anything out of theordinary, he noted there was a black patch upon one end of theslab. It looked like paint at first sight, and he began to wondersub-consciously what paint could be doing there. His interestquickening, he moved forward and flashed his torch upon thepatch. Then he bent down closely and then, suddenly, hestraightened himself up and his eyes opened very wide. "But thisis blood," he exclaimed hoarsely, "and there is a long hairsticking to it. It is a woman's hair and jet black"—hecould hardly get his breath—"and Rita Ethelton's hair wasjet black."

Croupin sprang to his side and flashed his own light upon thepatch too, and then, in startled silence they stood regardingeach other, with faces that showed up pale and ghastly even amongthe shadows of the vault.

The detective was the first to recover his composure. "Yes,that is blood," he said quietly, "and see—it has drippedtoo over the edge of the slab. The hair is human because of itslength and, for the same reason, it must have belonged to awoman. Therefore the body of a woman was placed here and if shewere already dead, from the extent of the bloodstains, it couldonly have been very shortly after the moment of her death." Hepaused a moment and then added very slowly, "Unless, that driedblood there be the blood of all four deaths, and each time theassassin has waited here to rest."

Bidding Croupin stand back, he proceeded to minutely examinethe stone flags all round the base of the slab, and was at oncerewarded by further discoveries, for he picked up quite a numberof small pieces of dried black mud.

"And they were brought in upon the boots of someone who hadjust come off the marshes," he whispered. He could not hide theexultation in his voice. "Oh! how it all fits in!"

"Then William is the madman who has been killing all thesepeople," exclaimed Croupin excitedly, "and he found those goldornaments, only by chance." He grabbed Larose by the arm. "Don'tyou see it, Monsieur? It is as clear as daylight to me." His eyeswere almost starting from his head. "He has killed four personsand he has brought them all down here by that passage he hasdiscovered, and has buried them under those four flagstones hehas lifted up. Quick! where is that crowbar you saw?"

The detective whistled. "By Jove! you may be right," and in afew seconds they were handling the crowbar and proceedingfeverishly to raise the first flag.

But the flag was thick and heavy and they could only raise itinch by inch, and then were obliged to wedge stones under it toprevent it falling back.

And their exultation died down quickly with the coming up ofthe stone, for there was no suggestion at all that any body hadbeen interred there recently.

"But perhaps it is well covered over," panted Croupin "andthat is why there is no smell."

The stone was up at last and they were gazing upon a bed ofdry and crumbled earth with no suggestion, however that anycorpse had been interred there recently. A few minutes ofstrenuous digging and then up came a piece of bone.

"A leg bone," said Larose grimly, "and from the look of it,it's been there for hundreds of years." He shook his head. "No,it's no good digging deeper here. Now for the other ones."

With great labour, one after another, they lifted up the threeother flags, but made no attempt at digging very deep down forthe earth beneath was just the same as in the first one, crumbledand disturbed, but with no odour other than that of the driedearth of hundreds of years.

"Now," said Larose, "we'll just sit down and sum everythingup," and he was joined by Croupin upon the steps at the entranceto the vaults. "No, no smoking, Monsieur," he went on sternly,for the Frenchman had been upon the point of lighting acigarette. "To smoke here, might prove as dangerous to us assmoking in a powder magazine. You say William doesn't smoke, anda non-smoker would detect the smell of tobacco smoke, even afterforty-eight hours. Switch off your torch, too, for we'll probablywant every minute of our lights now and we can talk just as wellin the dark."

Croupin complied at once and the inky blackness of the vaultsenveloped them. A short silence followed and then the detectivebegan in a calm and measured tone.

"This is exactly what the position is. We are looking for amadman whom we suppose killed a girl, with jet-black hair, in theneighbourhood of this castle here, and disposed of her body in aplace we cannot find—and our attention has unexpectedlybeen drawn to an individual whom we have found out has access tothese vaults. Our attention was not drawn to him, in the firstinstance, because of the disappearance of this girl, but becausewe imagined him to have had something to do with the killing anddisappearance of quite another person. We suspect him ofmurderous tendencies, quite apart from anything to do with thisgirl."

Larose paused here for a moment, and, in the silence anddarkness, the emotional Frenchman edged up a little closer to himto make sure that be had not moved away.

The detective went on. "Well, we get on to this man's tracks,we follow them and they lead us down to this slab of stone uponwhich we find dried blood and a long jet-black, woman's hair." Helowered his voice impressively. "We have suspected him of onekilling and we find concrete evidence of another, in a spot thatwe know he is in the habit of frequenting. We also find mud heresimilar to that upon the marshlands outside." He reached out andgripped Croupin by the arm. "Now, what conclusion, therefore, arewe justified in arriving at?"

"Firstly," replied Croupin promptly, "that he is the killer ofboth these people and secondly, that the secret of that passageunder the moat is his." A little of the assurance in his voicedied away. "But where has he hidden the bodies?"

"They should be close here and the entrance to the passagestoo," replied the detective sharply, "for he laid that woman'sbody upon the slab either as I have suggested, to rest himselfafter having brought it under the moat, or else to get the burialplace prepared."

But all at once the Frenchman was disturbed by an idea thathad come to him. "Why should he have brought the bodies downhere?" he asked anxiously. "Why should he have gone to all thatlabour?"

"Why should he have killed these poor people at all, if itcomes to that?" replied Larose. "You see, Monsieur," he went on,"we are undoubtedly dealing with a madman here, and therefore wecannot judge his actions by what we should have done ourselves.We can conceive, as yet, of no reason why he should have takenthese poor creatures' lives, but when we do find out what turnedhim all at once into an assassin, we may, at the same time, learnwhy he chose to hide the bodies here."

"I realise that," said Croupin slowly, "but not knowing hismotives will make our work ever so much more difficult."

"And another thing," said Larose. "We cannot be sure yet thatit is William. We can only surmise, too, that it was he who gaveme this bruised neck last night. Don't forget we know for certainthat that Halesworth butcher has been in a madhouse once, andremember—he was born near here and should therefore knowevery yard of the Thralldom lands. As a boy, he worked on themand what is more possible than that in the course of his work inhis young days, he learnt that very secret that we think Williamnow possesses? No, no, we can't rule out that butcher yet. Afterlast night things are very suspicious about him." He switched onhis torch and looked at his watch. "But it is nearly four o'clockand you must be back again up those stairs before morningcomes."

"And we must think, too, how I am to get you out of thecastle," said Croupin, "and how you are to get back again tocontinue the search."

"I shall not go out," replied Larose quickly. "I shall remainon down here, and whether I find the bodies or not, I shall waitfor that madman to come here again." He nodded his head. "He willreturn sure enough if he does not learn anyone is after him."

"Well, William, will certainly come again," said Croupingleefully, "for he has those other graves to dig up yet." Helooked anxious. "But I don't like leaving you, for this is adreadful place to be in, alone."

Larose laughed. "It is a great adventure, Monsieur, and onewhich I shall love. But you must go up now and get me a fewthings that I shall have to have, a blanket, some candles, abottle of water and a little food."

"But what about to-night?" asked Croupin. "I cannot comebefore midnight because of the lord and after that"—heshook his head ominously—"I may run into William."

"Now, that's awkward," said Larose frowning, "for I must keepin touch with you all the time. Let me think."

"I could come down just as it begins to get light," saidCroupin, "or failing that, you could come into my little roomjust off the kitchen and I will leave food for you there and anote, if I have anything to tell you, under the leg of thekitchen table. There is always a wedge of paper there to keep itfrom rocking."

They replaced the flags they had lifted and removed all tracesof their work and then after Croupin had been up to obtain thethings that the detective required, the latter was left alone inthe darkness, among the rats, and in the presence of thedead.

CHAPTER XII. — THE SUSPICIONS OF WILLIAM

THE following morning William awoke with a head,which if it had belonged to James, the latter would havedescribed as 'muzzy.'

But William was not aware what a muzzy head was, for he hadnever indulged in too much alcohol. Indeed, he had been ateetotaller all his life, and had always a great contempt forthose who took anything stronger than water or tea or coffee.

He felt languid and depressed and he counted his pulse andfound that it was very slow. Also, he had a bitter taste in hismouth, and he looked at his tongue in the mirror which showedthat it was furred and of an ugly colour.

He sat upon the edge of his bed and thought. This was thesecond time that he had felt like this lately; the other time hadbeen not a fortnight ago. Then, as now, he had slept all nightlike a dead man, to awake in the morning with all the symptoms ofone who had taken a heavy dose of some powerful drug. And he hadbeen suspicious then that someone had been drugging him, and hadlooked hastily to see if any one had been opening his trunk whilehe had been asleep.

But he had found his keys in their usual pocket in the beltthat he always wore upon him, night and day, and all his lockedup belongings had been intact. Still he had half thought that thetwo gold bangles he had tied up in his handkerchief and hadthrust at the bottom of all the other things in the trunk, werenot tied up in exactly the same way as he had left them, and hehad been doubtful, too, if the crucifix were not wrapped updifferently in the piece of shaving paper.

Yes, he remembered how strong his suspicions had been then,and he became doubly suspicious now.

He knew something of the after effects of drugs, for there hadbeen a time in his life when drugs had played a prominent andunpleasant part.

It was true he had only very vague memories of those days andnothing stood out really clearly to him, except a large gardenwith very high walls. But he could dimly remember being givennasty-tasting things to drink, and if he refused them, as hesometimes did, a cultured voice would say, "A fiftieth ofhyosine, I think." And then would come a struggle and someonewould prick his arm, and he would fight fiercely andthen—drop off to sleep for a hundred years.

Surely this heavy head, this tired feeling, and this bittertaste he was now experiencing for the second time, could not benatural? It must be something he had been given to eat or drinkthat was causing it.

He went carefully over all he had had for supper the previousnight. Just some cold lamb and bread-and-butter, some salad, alittle stewed fruit and a small piece of cheese. They had all hadthe same things in the servants' hall and they had all beenserved from the same dishes.

Then he had had two glasses of water and a small cup ofcoffee. Ah! he remembered now—that coffee! It had tastedburnt and he had remarked upon it, but everyone else had saidtheirs was all right.

And Antoine, the chef, had handed him that cup of coffee! Ahot wave of colour surged his sallow face. Yes, then if anyonehad doped him, it had been that cursed Antoine, and he believedthe chef had done it.

No, he had never liked Antoine, and from the first moment ofthe Frenchman's arrival at the castle, for some reason that hehad never been able to explain, he had always been doubtful abouthim.

The chef was such a watchful-looking, prying fellow, and hewas always so curious about everything. And it was strange, too,about that old violin of his that he could play upon like aprofessional musician. He had always denied that it was of anyparticular value, and yet once when one of the girls hadaccidentally knocked it off a chair, he had gone as white as asheet and had trembled all over until he had found it had notbeen injured.

The footman thought rapidly. But if Antoine had drugged him,what had he drugged him for? Who was Antoine and what was heafter?

Antoine was nothing but a cook, an ordinary cook. Ah! but washe only a cook? He wasn't ordinary either. He was clever, muchtoo clever, he, William, had often thought to be taking servicein a private family. Yes, there was something very unusual abouthim.

William thought on for a long while and then, realising thathe would be late for his work, began to make his toilethurriedly.

"Yes, I'll watch that Antoine," he snarled. His face suddenlytook on an ashen hue. "But what if he's been watching me?" Acruel and cunning expression came into his eyes and he shiftedthem rapidly from one side to the other and added menacingly."It'll be bad for him if he has."

So Croupin noticed a subtle something about William the firstmoment that morning when he set eyes upon him.

He felt, rather than saw, that the footman was watching him,and when he handed him his cup of coffee, William sipped thefirst few drops very cautiously, as if he were not quite sure itwas all right.

During the morning, whenever the two were brought in contactwith each other in the course of their duties, William's mannertowards the chef was more constrained and unresponsive thanever.

When he took his lordship's breakfast tray from him, he liddedhis eyes so that their expression should not be seen, and whenCroupin spoke, he answered curtly and in the coldest mannerpossible.

Croupin would have been terribly mortified if he had knownthat William was remarking something peculiar in him, too. Thefootman was sure that there was embarrassment in the chef'smanner, and that he was more anxious to ingratiate himself andmore anxious to please.

And then suddenly, when alone upon his duties in the library,William began wondering with a sort of shock, if there wereanything in connection with the visits of the detective fromScotland Yard and the drug that he was now quite certain had beenadministered to him the previous night.

He had not been present when the detective had come into theservants' hall, but he had heard about all that had happened fromthe girls and how the chef had twice spoken very rapidly in hisown tongue to their visitor.

Now, was Antoine acting in collusion with the police, and hadthose hurried, sharp words meant any passing on to the detectiveof some discovery that he had made? And if he had made anydiscovery might it not be that he was aware of the secret passageleading down into into the vaults and that he knew that he,William, had been making use of it, night after night?

He looked stealthily round, but he was quite alone in theroom. His thoughts ran on.

Those nights! Ah! he was a different being then! He was nolonger a hireling, decked out in the livery of servitude andcarrying out menial tasks at the bidding of a querulous oldman!

Another life came to him amid the dust of those dead years andhe was the sovereign of all about him there! The reek of the boneearth was an opiate then to his scarred and tortured brain and hewas King, Emperor and God in a dark world all of his own!

Myriads of rats were among his subjects and he had dealt outdeath to them when he had been in the mood! With his bare hands,he had torn them from the crevices along the corridors and theirblood had been sprinkled upon the stones!

"Ah! there had been blood sometimes! Blood! Blood!" Then hepassed his hand over his forehead and stared wonderingly round,like a man awakening from a dream.

But he heard shuffling footsteps behind him, and in thepassing of a second was the quiet and subservient footmanagain.

His thoughts had, however, left their aftermath, but withcunning now taking the place of rage, and no one at the middaymeal would have dreamed, from his impassive demeanour, the redmist that he was seeing before his eyes.

He would not leave his room for a few nights, he told himself,and, in the meantime, if he could murder the chef in a mannerthat would not direct the slightest suspicion upon himself, hewould do so. But nothing must be done that would bring him incontact with the police. He shook his head energetically. No, hehad no wish to be questioned by them.

He thought of many unpleasant ways in which he could get ridof Antoine, but all his ideas were tempered with a foresight thatwould leave nothing to chance.

To induce the chef to come up upon the battlements and thenthrow him over would be the simplest plan, but it was notpracticable for he could think of no excuse to inveigle him intogoing up there.

Then he thought of poisoning him, and he remembered some micepoison that he had seen upon a shelf in the scullery. It wouldcontain strychnine, probably, and he would look for anopportunity to place it in something the chef was going to eat ordrink.

So choosing a moment early in the afternoon, when no one wasabout, he tiptoed into the scullery and reached for the tin ofpoison upon the shelf. But ill-fortune was dogging him there, forhe had only just taken it down when Rosa, the under-housemaid,came in and seeing what he was handling, asked immediately whathe wanted mice poison for.

He was quite calm and collected and explained he was lookingfor Insectibain, as he had just seen a black-beetle going underthe big cupboard in the servants' hall. She told him where theInsectibain was and he had to replace the mice poison and thatcut out all thoughts of dealing with the chef in that way.

Later, about four o'clock, it being his afternoon off, he wentfor a long walk to clear his head, and when passing through thevillage of Westleton, he suddenly saw Antoine coming out of thelittle general shop, with a parcel in his hand. The chef did notsee him, but turned at once to walk back in the direction of thecastle.

William waited a couple of minutes and then went into the shophimself and bought three pennyworth of boiled sweets, askinglaughingly when the sweets were handed over, if the Frenchman hadjust been buying any chocolates for the girls up at thecastle.

"Candles!" ejaculated William uneasily, when he was outsidethe shop again, and continuing his walk towards the sea. "Nowwhat does he want candles for? I used candles until I'd boughtthat hurricane lamp." And he became more disturbed in his mind,than ever.

The goddess of ill-fortune was certainly following Williamthat afternoon, for he had not left the shop two minutes whenCroupin returned to it. He had forgotten he was out ofcigarettes.

"And I was sure it was chocolates you'd come back for,"laughed the shopman. "Mr. William's just been in, and he asked ifyou'd been buying any for the pretty girls up at the castle. Hesaw you go out with your parcel and was very astonished you'donly been buying candles."

"Oh! he was, was he?" commented the very discomfited Croupin."Well, he's always as curious as an old woman that chap." And heproceeded to walk back to the castle, feeling most uneasy,looking many times over his shoulder, to see if William werecoming up behind him.

"He suspects something," he muttered hoarsely. "I am sure hewas different this morning, and now, he'll murder me if he getsthe chance." He nodded his head. "I'll not leave my room to-night." A catch came into his voice. "But I must warn thatGilbert somehow. Croupin's not the man to let down a friend."

And so, directly he arrived back at the castle and had changedinto his chef's clothes, he chanced everything and ran into thechapel. He had put a big dab of flour upon his face and carried abig rolling pin with plenty of flour adhering to it, with theintention of declaring excitedly that he was chasing a rat, if hewere unlucky enough to meet anyone upon his way.

But he encountered no one and very quickly had negotiated thespiral staircase and was running along the corridor leading tothe dungeons.

"Meester Larose," he called out shrilly, "it is I, Croupin andI want you! Quick!" The detective at once appeared with his torchflashed.

"William suspects something," he exclaimed breathlessly, "andis watching me now! I don't suppose he'll come down to-night, andI'd better not either."

"No, nothing as yet," replied Larose, "but I've a lot moreplaces to search round."

"Well, as I'd better not come down with your food to-night,you must come up and get it yourself, directly it begins to getlight in the morning. I'll leave it all ready under the dresserin my kitchen. You know where it is.Au revoir. Goodfortune to you." In two minutes he was back again in the kitchen,without having encountered anyone.

"Bien, Monsieur Croupin," he chuckled as he got busywith his pots and pans, "but you are a great man and likeNapoleon, nothing is impossible with you." He shook his headslowly, "But you have had a worrying day."

And he was by no means the only one in the castle who had beenworried that day for in addition to himself and William, both AnnDevenham and Lord Thralldom had had their unpleasant times.

The girl had risen that morning after a very broken night, andhad tried in vain to persuade herself that what she had seen inthe chapel had been only a dream.

But she was too certain she could not have been mistaken. Shehad seen a man carrying a light pass into the solid wall that shehad many times helped Rosa, the housemaid, to dust.

"What did it mean," she asked herself. "What could it mean butthat someone, unknown to them all, had access to the undergroundparts of the castle and was descending into them for somesinister purpose of his own. And that purpose could not be a goodone," she argued, "because who would be moving about in the deadof night unless he were doing something wrong?"

She was angry with herself that she had no idea at what exacttime she had run from the chapel for, upon gaining the sanctuaryof her bedroom, she had been so frightened that she had justflung herself upon the bed as she was and not until the dawn wasbeginning to filter through the windows, had she undressedproperly and put herself into bed.

Then when the hour for getting up had come, she was oppressedwith the thought that she must tell her uncle. It would worryhim, she was sure, but it was not right that he should not knowwhat had happened, and so she must find the first opportunity shecould and speak to him alone.

But it was not until the morning was well advanced that shecould get that opportunity and then, following him into thelibrary, she told him everything.

With her first words a look almost of consternation came intohis face, but it was quickly succeeded by a look of stonyincredibility. He made no remark, however, until she hadfinished. Then he asked sharply. "What was the man like?"

"I couldn't say," she replied. "I didn't see his face. Hisback was towards me and he was flashing a torch before him andstooping to pass through the opening in the wall." She hesitateda moment. "But, oh! uncle, it was someone I know, I am sure, forthere was something familiar about his figure to me."

Lord Thralldom eyed her very sternly. "Have you said anythingabout this to anyone else?" he asked.

"No, I've spoken to no one," she replied. "It would terrifymother if I did. But I thought I ought to tell you."

A long silence followed and then Lord Thralldom heaved a heavysigh. "I've lived nearly all my life here," he said slowly, "anduntil these last few days there has been no nonsense aboutmysterious secret passages. Then, within a few days, MarmadukeBonnett mentions them, that man from Scotland Yard brings themup, and now you come with a tale that I can hardly believe to betrue." He rose wearily from his chair. "Come with me and show mewhere you saw this door." He smiled kindly. "I believe you dreamtit all."

They went together into the chapel and shutting the doorbehind them, he asked her to point out where the opening hadbeen.

Ann hesitated. "I don't know exactly," she said, "but it wassomewhere about there," and together, they approached where sheindicated, and proceeded to examine the oak panellingcarefully.

They tapped upon every inch, and pushed and pulled against thepanelling in all directions, but the oak was firm and solid as arock and no discovery rewarded their efforts.

With every minute Lord Thralldom's face grew sterner. "I'm notpleased with you, Ann," he said at last. "You're a foolish girland are worrying me unnecessarily. Of course you didn't see a mango in here and if you mention about it to anyone"—his voicewas almost menacing in his displeasure—"there will be apack of rumours going about that will torment me out of myfife."

"You are not certain," interrupted Lord Thralldom angrily."You are just at that unbalanced age that comes to all women,when their judgment and reason cannot be relied upon." He snappedhis fingers in a gesture of contempt. "Look at your conduct withthat young fellow that came up the other night and whom Ifoolishly asked to stay to dinner. Why, Marmaduke Bonnett informsme he is only a clerk in a bank and you"—he glared angrilyat her—"are a Thralldom. I am ashamed of you, Ann."

"He is in every way a gentleman, Uncle," she said quickly. Shetossed her head defiantly and with something of her lordlyrelation's spirit. "But that has nothing to do with what I sawlast night."

"And I say you saw nothing," insisted Lord Thralldom firmly,"and if you persist in your folly, it will occasion me greatannoyance." He clenched his hands together. "Don't you realise,girl, that if it gets about that you say you saw a man goingthrough a secret passage here, all the gossips in the county willbe talking about it, and it will draw attention to my paintings.Good Heavens!" he ejaculated, "just as if they were not a greatenough responsibility already."

Ann made no comment and he went on very sternly, "Now, youlisten to me. You must give me your solemn promise that you willnot mention about this to a soul in the castle." He glared ather. "You understand?"

"Yes, I promise." Her face was very pale but her expressionwas not a cowed one and indeed, she looked just as angry as hewas.

"Good," he remarked, and he added grimly, "a Thralldom neverlies." And he left the chapel without another word.

Ann went up to her bedroom and gave way to her emotions in aflood of tears. She felt very miserable, but all her fear of theman whom she was still certain she had seen going through thesecret passage, was now lost in the indignity under which she wassmarting. Her uncle had treated her in a way that washumiliating. He had not only been contemptuously incredulousabout what she had told him, but also he had spoken as if therewere something despicable in her friendship with John Harden.

She recovered herself very quickly, however, and sponging herface well, with cold water, there was nothing at lunch time togive any indication of the emotional stress through which she hadpassed.

She was losing, too, something of the resentment she had felttowards her uncle. After all, she told herself, he was an oldman, and he could not have many years to live. The doctors toldthem he might have another stroke any time and the next one mightbe fatal. It was less easy to forgive his reference to JohnHarden, however, but there again his mind had undoubtedly beenpoisoned by that detestable Captain Bonnett.

All these thoughts coursed quickly through her mind, and verysoon she was smiling again at her uncle as if there had been nounpleasantness between them that morning. She was considering,too, how she could help him, notwithstanding that he wasincredulous of all she had told him and so insistent that he wasnot in a position to need any help.

Something was going on in the castle that was mysterious and,with those almost priceless paintings in the picture gallery, shewas sure it was not safe there should be any strange happeningsthat could not be explained.

She had promised her uncle that she would not speak to anyoneabout what she knew had happened in the chapel the previousnight, but that promise she reminded herself, only extended tothose inside the castle and she had made no promise about anyoneelse outside.

She wondered then how she could get in touch with thatdetective from Scotland Yard. He had seemed to be a man whom shecould trust and, if she told him everything he would surelyadvise her, and in any case she then would have done what shefelt she ought to, whether any misfortune came upon her uncle ornot.

So, after lunch, finding an opportunity when no one was about,she shut herself up in the telephone cabinet and with a littlequickening of the beatings of her heart, rang up the bank atSaxmundham and asked for John Harden. She was put through to himat once and she flushed happily when she caught the thrill in hisvoice as he answered her.

Yes, of course, he would be delighted to do anything for her,he said. No, he did not know where that Mr. Larose was staying,except that he knew it was somewhere in Minsmere Haven. But hewould soon find out, for he would go there straight away directlyhe was free, which would be about four o'clock. Should he come upand tell her? Oh! well, he was to get the detective to ring herup! Exactly at eight o'clock, and if he could not get hold of thedetective, he was to ring her up himself and tell her!

"And don't let Mr. Larose give his name," she enjoinedimpressively, "nor you either, if you ring up. I don't wantanyone to know. Just ask for me and say there's a message fromMiss Smith, but if the call is put through exactly at eight, Iwill be by the telephone cabinet myself and answer when anyonerings."

Then followed a few minutes' conversation, which would havemeant nothing to any outsider listening, but where every word ofit was nevertheless laden to each speaker with the most beautifulmessage in all the world. It was the message that man and womanhave been whispering to each other as long as time has run.

Ann left the telephone with her eyes sparkling. "I don't mindwhat anyone says," she told herself defiantly, "as long as hewants me." Her face flushed. "And I know he does."

Three minutes before eight, she was again in the telephonecabinet and holding back the hammer of the bell with her fingers.It vibrated at exactly eight o'clock.

It was John Harden speaking and he told her he had not beenable to get in touch with Larose. He had found out where thedetective was staying, at the inn on Minsmere Haven, but he hadnot been home since the previous evening, and no one knew wherehe had gone. He had not left for good, however, because his carwas still in the garage and so he, John Harden, had left a notefor him, telling him exactly what to do when he came back.

She rang off reluctantly a few minutes later, and, with noinclination to visit the chapel, went into the drawing-room,where she found her stepmother sitting alone.

"Captain Bonnett has been looking for you," said Lady Deering."He wanted you to go up on the battlements with him. There's abig schooner anchored in the haven." Ann made no remark and sheadded with a smile, "Marmaduke is very interested in you, Ann,and you might do worse. He comes of a very good family and youruncle likes him."

The girl tossed her head contemptuously. "Well, I don't,Mother," she replied. "He bores me more every time I seehim."

Lady Deering frowned. "Well, don't be foolish, Ann," shereplied, "for you cannot afford to offend your uncle. Remember,he's an old man and all your future lies in his hands. He maymake ample provision for you if you do as he wants you to." Shespoke sharply. "I know he's annoyed with you about that youngfellow in Saxmundham."

Her stepmother smiled. "That's a good girl," she replied. "Youwill find him with your uncle in the gallery."

"I don't want to find him," said Ann calmly. "I only wanted toknow where he was so that I could avoid him," and before herstepmother could think of any adequate reply, she swept from theroom.

Shortly after half past nine Lord Thralldom, who was alone inhis bedroom, summoned James and announced that he was going up onto the battlements.

"I've heard the hooting of the owl again, just now," he saidsternly, "and we'll go up and see if we can stop that nonsensefor good."

James cursed under his breath. He had been disturbed at a mostinteresting moment in a game of bridge, when he and Rosa werewinning from the butler and Mary, and it should have meant acouple of shillings at least. He had just sorted a good no-trumphand, too, when the bell had rung.

But he bowed most deferentially. "Very good, my lord," and headded as if with great solicitude for his master's health, butreally with the hope that he might put him off from theridiculous excursion, "Your lordship had better wear an overcoatfor I think it's going to rain."

"You've got your pistol, of course?" asked Lord Thralldomsharply, and James cursed under his breath again, as he repliedthat he had.

They ascended the stairs leading up on to the battlements,very slowly, and with Lord Thralldom leaning heavily upon hisservant's arm. A slight drizzling rain greeted them when theyarrived at the top and were in the open air.

"Now bend down and don't show too much of yourself," said hislordship sharply. "I'll go the north side. You go the other wayand we'll meet at the east tower. Hold your pistol ready andshoot on the instant if you see anything moving."

"Very good, my lord," replied James, and he cursed under hisbreath for the third time. He hated firearms of all descriptions,considering them always as an abiding source of danger to theirpossessors.

He commenced circling slowly round the battlements, as orderedby his employer, but he took no interest in anything that mightbe below the castle, all his thoughts being directed upon whatthey were probably then doing in the servants' hall.

"I'd have given old Bevan hell," he muttered, "and with anyhelp at all from the tart, it'd have been a grand slam."

But his meditations were interrupted suddenly by a sharp callfrom Lord Thralldom. "Over here, at once, James. I see somethingmoving." With a grimace of resignation but with all appearancesof great energy, the disgusted footman ran to his master.

"Quick, there he is at the end of the ditch," hissed LordThralldom. "It's a long shot, but if you're pretty good with apistol as you told me when I engaged you, you may at least winghim."

James released the safety catch of his pistol with a shudderand raising his arm shakily, pointed his weapon in the directionindicated. He had seen nothing, but that did not matter. Hepulled the trigger and the pistol went off.

"Yes, my lord, I hit him," replied the footman grinning tohimself in the dark. "In the leg, I think. I aimed prettylow."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Lord Thralldom. "That'll teach him alesson anyhow." He peered over into the darkness. "Now can yousee anybody else?"

But the footman was thankful his master could pick out no moreshadows at which to make him fire that awful pistol, and so,after circling round the battlements several times, theydescended the stairs into the castle.

James was free again at last, but almost racing into theservants' hall directly he had got rid of his master, dreadfulnews awaited him. In his absence, Isobel, the head-parlourmaid,had been given his hand to play and she had slipped badly bygoing down four tricks. The game was finished and he had threeand twopence to pay.

Then in due time they were all sleeping in Thralldom Castle,but in their slumbers their subconscious minds were all stirringin curious and widely differing ways.

Lord Thralldom dreamed happily that injury had at last beeninflicted upon one of his phantom enemies; William was restlessand tossed about, dreaming that he was back among those highwalls again; James had a horrid nightmare that he was missinganother grand slam; Larose had only snatches of sleep because therats ran over him and even crept under his blankets. Anndreamed—ah! but what were Ann's dreams and who would darepry among the slumbers of a young girl in love? No, let us leaveAnn alone.

In the meantime Naughton Jones was most annoyed. Rawlings hadshot a hole right through the side of his overcoat and he hadonly recently purchased the garment for four pounds ten! He wassure it was Rawlings although he had not actually seen him nor,indeed, had he been able to find any trace of the manafterwards.

The great investigator had been prospecting round the castlein the darkness, hoping that he might catch the demented bailiffupon the warpath again and then suddenly he had heard a hissingnoise and felt some disturbance in the garments at his side. Thenhad come a sharp crack from behind him and he knew a pistol hadbeen fired. He had turned like lightning but was too late to seeany flash and so could not determine from which direction theshot had come.

Feeling his rent garment, he realised what a narrow escape ithad been for him. But any thankfulness on that account was quiteout-weighed by the knowledge, firstly, that he had been beaten inscoutscraft by a madman, for he had never been aware of thepresence of his assailant and yet the latter had evidently seenhim, and secondly, that Rawlings was now evidently in thepossession of fire-arms.

The position, in Jones's opinion, had become so serious thathe took two hours and more crawling along ditches with hisstomach flat upon the ground, before he reached in safety thelittle cottage where he had taken rooms.

CHAPTER XIII. — AT NIGHT IN THE CHAPEL

THE following day it was as if a number oftrains of gunpowder were being laid in the great castle ofThralldom, with the possibility of any one of them exploding atany moment.

Larose was searching feverishly for the place where the bodyof a woman with jet-black hair had been interred; William wasnursing murderous thoughts towards Antoine, the chef, and rackinghis brain how best to put them into action; Ann washoping—with what possible consequences she did notdream—to have speech with the detective from Scotland Yardbefore another night had fallen, and Silas Q. Hudson, of NewYork, was perfecting his final arrangements for breaking into thepicture gallery and purloining the Rubens and any other canvasseshe and his companions could manage to carry away.

The American was lunching in the castle and his faithful body-servant and masseur was participating in the midday meal in theservants' hall.

"As you are coming up to lunch, Mr. Hudson," Lord Thralldomhad telephoned earlier in the morning, "your man may just as wellwait and return with you later in the car."

Nothing could have suited Silas Hudson better, for witharrangements almost complete for breaking into the castle, it wasyet most desirable that Kelly should have a close-up view of thewiring of the alarms attached to the frame of 'The Man ofSorrows' before the actual night of the attempt.

Thus far, although Kelly had been coming up to the castle uponevery other day, to give his customary half hour's massage toLady Deering, the gang had not been able to think of anyreasonable excuse to get him into the picture gallery, but withthe near approach of the critical hour, Hudson's imagination hadbeen stirred into activity and at last he had thought of anidea.

They were all sitting in the lounge waiting for the luncheongong to sound when he turned smilingly to Lady Deering.

"And how is the lumbago getting on?" he asked. "It ought to begetting better by now."

"It is, Mr. Hudson," replied Lady Deering thankfully. "I ambeginning to feel quite a different person." She flushed ever solittle. "Your man has such wonderful strength in his hands thatnow I have got accustomed to him, I really think that, apart fromhis curing my lumbago, he is imparting some of his vigour tome."

"Quite so, Lady Deering," commented Hudson glibly, "and thatis what often happens. It is well recognised in medical circlesthat strength can be imparted from one person to another." Helaughed. "You know, if I had made this world, I should have madehealth catching, instead of disease."

Lady Deering lowered her voice so that James, who was handinground cocktails should not hear. "But oh! I didn't like him atall at first and being massaged, too, was not a bit like what I'dthought it would be. He seemed terribly rough"—she lookedpuzzled—"and I never knew they wore rubber gloves."

"Oh! but that's the latest thing in the medical world,"replied Hudson quickly, and choking back a grin. "The elasticityof the rubber is supposed to set up vibrations and their effectis wonderful upon the patient."

"Well, they have certainly been wonderful for me," agreed LadyDeering, "and I've been trying to induce my daughter here to letMr. Thompson give her a course for her leg. She ricked her thighabout six months ago and her leg is often stiff after a dance."She looked frowningly at Ann. "But the foolish girl won't haveit."

The American with great difficulty cut short a loud guffaw. Helooked with twinkling eyes at Ann Devenham.

"So you won't have any massage, young lady?" he smiled. "Youdon't like the idea?"

"No, I don't," replied Ann laconically. She had quite got overthe feelings of cordiality she had momentarily experienced forthe American upon his first visit to the castle, and she nowregarded him as a vulgar specimen of the great country that hadgiven him birth. As for the masseur, Thompson, she alwaysshuddered when she thought of the very idea of him pawing overher white limbs with his coarse hands.

"There's one very curious thing about that man of mine mylord," he said. "He's a very good fellow and very intelligent,but he has no bump of veneration, and absolutely no appreciationof the beautiful things in life. The other day I pointed out tohim the grave of one of the kings of England in WestminsterAbbey, and his only comment was that his mother had got a goodheadstone too, over her grave in the cemetery at Bethnal Green.Then I asked him, only yesterday, what he thought of your 'Man ofSorrows' and he replied, 'All right at a distance, but itwouldn't bear close looking into and that's why they've got thatrail up to keep people away.'"

The expression on Lord Thralldom's face was a pained one."What colossal ignorance!" he ejaculated. "It's pitiable."

"He ought to have his nose rubbed against the glass," growledCaptain Bonnett, "and then he'd know different."

"But he won't believe," went on Hudson, "that the closer youexamine a great painting, the more impressed you become at thesplendour and minuteness of its detail." He shook his head. "Butit annoys me that the man is so obstinate in his opinion."

"Well, you can show him he is wrong, if you want to," saidLord Thralldom with a smile. "If it will be any satisfaction toyou, he can come into the gallery after lunch and we'll see if hepersists in his obstinacy."

"Good!" exclaimed the American laughingly. "It will be amusingto watch his face."

And so, when luncheon was over and coffee had been served tothem all in the gallery, with Lord Thralldom's permission, Jameswas despatched with a message to Hudson's servant in theservants' hall.

"Tell him," said the American "that I want to speak to him,and that he is to bring up the rheumatism tablets from the pocketof my car; the rheumatism tablets, not the indigestion ones.He'll know which are which." And a few minutes later Kellyappeared in the gallery with the usual sullen expression on hisface.

"Thank you," said Hudson when the tablets were handed over tohim. "We shall be going home shortly and you might see if anywater is wanted in the radiator of the car. Oh! by-the-bye," headded, "you always say you'd like to examine this paintinghere"—he indicated 'The Man of Sorrows'—"and hislordship now very kindly gives his permission for you to doso."

Kelly frowned as if he were annoyed for all eyes to be focusedupon him, and he stood hesitating, looking from his master toLord Thralldom and then back to his master again.

"Thank you, my lord," he said at length and in a very grufftone. "I always wanted to look closely at one of those pictures,but I've never had the chance." And walking up to the Rubens, hebent his squat figure and passed under the rail.

"Don't touch it!" exclaimed Hudson in horrified tones, forKelly, not content with gluing his face as close as possible tothe glass, was laying his big hands upon it, and, seemingly,pressing on it to see if it were firm.

"He won't hurt it," smiled Lord Thralldom now appearing quiteamused. "Take a good look at it, Thompson, and see if the painterhas put in anything wrong."

They all watched the slow and clumsy movements of the masseur,as with his eyes never an inch away from the glass, he moved hishead slowly from side to side along the whole breadth of thecanvas and tapped upon the glass several times.

"Oh! it fits well, Thompson," laughed the American, "and notone particle of dust will get inside if it hangs there for ahundred years."

And then suddenly it came to Ann Devenham with a shock, thatboth Hudson and his servant were playing a part. Yes, she wassure of it. Hudson was like a showman who was exhibiting aperforming animal and the servant was acting as if it had allbeen arranged beforehand exactly what he should do.

In a flash, her mind went back to the conversation in thelounge before lunch and she saw how, step by step, her uncle hadbeen led up to the point of himself suggesting that the manshould be brought into the picture gallery and allowed to gounder the rail to have a close up view of the Rubens.

"And what does it all mean?" she asked herself and she caughther breath in the possibility that might lie in the answer, forshe had never forgotten how sure she had been that it was onlythrough the scheming of Captain Bonnett that Silas Hudson hadbeen introduced into the castle.

But the play, if indeed it were a play, was soon over, for theAmerican's servant, apparently satisfied that he had seen all hewanted to, ducked back under the rail and bowed jerkily to LordThralldom.

"Thank you, my lord," he said quietly. "I don't know how hecould have done it." And Lord Thralldom thought it a really finetribute to the genius of Peter Paul Rubens from a very simple-minded man.

That evening, just before eight, more disturbed than ever inher mind, Ann went into the telephone cabinet and muted thehammer of the bell as she had done before. A call came throughalmost immediately and with a mingling of delight anddisappointment, she recognised it was John Harden's voiceagain.

Larose had not returned to the inn, he told her, and there wasno news of him. His car was still in the garage. What should he,John, do? He was telephoning from Minsmere Haven and was not twomiles away. There was an invitation in his voice.

Ann hesitated a moment and then, taking her courage in herhands, gave a reply that thrilled and delighted the boy.

"Meet me in the garden, in exactly half an hour from now," shesaid. "Go to the seat where we were the other day and wait forme, if I'm not there when you arrive. Don't be seen by anybody ifyou can help it." And she rang off with a frightened and veryguilty feeling at her heart.

Just before the half hour had elapsed, like a conspirator, shewent round to make sure where everyone was. Lord Thralldom andCaptain Bonnett were smoking in the library, her stepmother wasreading in the music room, and all the servants were apparentlyin their quarters.

Ann unlocked the grille in the hall and pulled it to, withoutlatching it. She did the same to the front door. Then with herheart bumping furiously, she ran quickly across the draw-bridgeand down into the garden in the further side.

She arrived at the seat where she had told John Harden he wasto meet her and, for the moment, consternation seized her, forthere was no one there. But young Harden stepped from behind atree and smilingly took the hand that she thankfully extended tohim.

"You told me not to be seen," he said softly, and the shadowshid the colour in her cheeks as she realised suddenly that therewas now a secret between them. He would have held her handlonger, but she drew it away.

"I'm very worried, John," she said with a little tremor andslipping unconsciously into the use of his Christian name. "Oh! Ibeg your pardon"—she went on correcting herselfquickly—"Mr. Harden, of course, I mean."

"No, John, from now, Ann," he said decisively and there was afirmness in his voice that heartened her at once. "Now tell mewhat it is?" And then with no hesitation she plunged into herstory.

She told him how she had fallen asleep in the chapel; how shehad wakened to see a man going through a door in the wall; howterrified she had been; how she had told her uncle; with whatunbelief and then anger he had received her news, and how he hadmade her promise to tell no one in the castle. Finally, shementioned her suspicions of the American and his servant, but forpride's sake because Captain Bonnett was a connection of herstepmother, she made no mention of the latter.

Young Harden listened without any comment, just standing andlooking down upon her, delighting his eyes to the full extentthat the quickly gathering darkness would allow him. Then withher recital finished, he guided her gently to the big rustic seatupon which they had sat at their last meeting in the garden.

"Sit down, Ann," he said quickly. "This certainly wantslooking into, and if we could have got in touch with Mr. Larosehe would have been the very man to have advised us." He thoughtfor a moment. "Now, are you quite certain it would be useless tospeak to your uncle again?"

"Quite," she replied. "It would only make him angry again, andreally I have nothing but my suspicions against Mr. Hudson."

"Well what about me calling upon Lord Thralldom now, straightaway," said Harden, "and then you taking me afterwards into thechapel, as you did before, and I'll have a look to see if I canfind that secret door. I am a pretty good amateur carpenter andmight see a join in the panelling which both of you overlooked. Ihave a wonderful excuse," he added smilingly, "for I have broughtup a cheque with me that arrived by post at the bank thisafternoon, that your uncle has paid in to us and notendorsed."

Ann looked very uncomfortable. "It wouldn't do," she saidslowly. "My uncle wouldn't like it, and they wouldn't let me takeyou into the chapel afterwards." She laid her hand lightly uponhis arm and went on in a shamed sort of way. "John, after you hadbeen the other evening, they were angry and said you must not beasked again. Captain Bonnett had told them you came from the bankand so"—her voice trembled—"because you have not hadso many wicked ancestors as I have had, they don't likeyou"—she hesitated and picked her words verycarefully—"being my friend."

"Oh! that's it, is it?" said John grimly, and he spoke inquiet ordinary matter-of-fact tones. "So they don't think I'mgood enough to be your friend." He smiled and nodded his headapprovingly. "And they are quite right and I don't disagree withthem." He paused a moment. "No one is really good enough." Hisvoice was very gentle. "And what does Ann say?"

The girl laughed nervously. "Ann comes to you for help, John,"she replied, "and she's sure you'll give it her, too."

The boy looked her straight in the face and she, if veryflushed and hot, yet returned his look unflinchingly.

He waited just a moment and then, reaching out, pulled hergently to him and kissed her once, very softly upon the lips. Sheseemed to draw herself away, but then suddenly lifting up herface to his, she kissed him back in exactly the same way.

And by both of them it had been done as if it were the mostnatural thing in the world.

"Good!" said John Harden with a deep sigh. "Then that's that,and we can now settle down to business." He gently imprisoned oneof her hands. "You must get me into the chapel, dear, and I'llkeep watch there to-night."

"Why not?" he asked briskly. "No one need know. I came on abicycle and I've got it hidden away in those bushes. I can goaway early in the morning. No one will miss me at my lodgings forI often go out fishing all night. And I've got a good electrictorch. Things couldn't be better. Now, can you smuggle me inwithout anyone seeing me?"

Ann sat with her brain in a whirl. "I could get you in," shesaid hesitatingly, "that is if you went in at once before thealarms are set, because I've left the doors open, but how aboutgetting you out in the morning?"

Young Harden rose quickly to his feet. "Come on," he said."The morning can take care of itself." He laughed lightly. "Andby then, perhaps, I may have earned the undying gratitude of youruncle and he'll overlook that little matter of no unbeheadedancestors of mine." Literally sweeping Ann off her feet andgiving her no time to consider or draw back, he commenced tohurry her towards the castle.

The big door was open as she had left it and so was thegrille, and now, closing both behind them, Ann led the way intothe chapel. They met no one upon their way and less than threeminutes from leaving the seat in the garden, were sitting behindthe curtain in front of the organ and breathlessly regarding eachother with feelings of triumph, in which, however, upon Ann'spart, was soon mingling not a little consternation at therealisation of what she had done so hurriedly.

"And so great decisions are made," whispered young Hardennodding his head. "No, don't worry, Ann," he went on quickly,noting the troubled look upon the girl's face. "Everything willbe quite all right. We'll rest a minute or two and then when it'sdark, we'll have a look for that door. We'll be more likely tofind it with my torch then, than in the half light now." Hereached over and took her hand. "Now I want to talk to you."

But for the next few minutes there was not much talking done,and indeed it seemed for the time that they had both forgottenwhat had brought them there. They exchanged many kisses, andthere were long silences and many sighs.

"No," she whispered back, "they'll only think I've gone tobed. They never trouble about me." Then followed another silenceand the exaltation of the Cherubim and Seraphim in the stainedglass windows could surely have never surpassed that of John andAnn.

But presently John flashed his torch. "Come on, darling," hesaid, "and show me where you saw the man go in. It's heavenlybeing with you like this, but we must do some work."

And so for half an hour and more they examined the panellingwhere Ann had seen the open door, but again, as with Ann and heruncle, all to no purpose. Nothing moved and everything was assolid as a rock.

"Of course I do," he replied. "I never had a doubt about it.That panelling is just where a secret door would be; the lines inthe carving would mask the opening so well."

And then suddenly both their hearts came into their mouths andAnn clutched at John's arm in consternation. They had heardfootsteps, and then the deep voice of Lord Thralldom boomed justoutside the chapel door. "And always see this door is locked,James," called out Lord Thralldom angrily, "and hang up the keyin its proper place in the hall. What are locks for unless theyare to be used. This door in particular is always beingforgotten." Then they heard the big key grate in the lock and thesound of its being withdrawn, and the footsteps and the voicesdied away.

"Oh! John," exclaimed Ann piteously and clinging to him, "whatshall we do? We're locked in."

"Oh! we'll think of some way of getting out," he saidreassuringly. "I've got a big penknife with a screwdriver in itand I may be able to pick the lock." He snapped off his torch andstruck a match. "But we'd better light that candle there and savemy torch." He bent down and kissed her. "Don't worry, dear, it'llbe all right."

But a very few seconds' inspection of the big door convincedthem, without any shadow of doubt that there was no chance ofpicking the lock. There were no screws on their side of the doorand the oak was much too thick and hard to hack away.

"Well, it's no good us losing our heads," said John calmly,"and we'll just think things over. Come and sit by the organagain."

They sat together, side by side, and for a few moments neitherspoke. From the expression upon her face, Ann was now quite ascalm and collected as he was, but the quick rise and fall of herbosom betokened the emotional distress she was in.

"I've got you into all this trouble, little one," John saidgently. "I ought never to have asked you to bring me up here.It's all my fault." He reached for her hand and held it. "Butit's no good regretting it now."

"I don't regret it, John," she whispered softly, "whateverhappens to me." She answered the pressure of his hand. "Itdoesn't matter," she went on with eyes shining tenderly in thecandlelight. "Nothing matters, now we know we are fond of eachother, dear."

"That's all very well for me, darling," smiled John happily,and he drew her again to him, "but a girl's reputation is moredelicate than a man's, remember. Now what are we going todo?"

Ann spoke quickly. "Well, it would be no good calling for helpnow. It wouldn't make things even a little bit better." Shelaughed nervously. "My reputation's gone in any case." She becamemost matter-of-fact all at once. "Now, this is our only chance.Rosa, the under-housemaid will come in here to dust, at seven to-morrow morning. She's a good girl and I can trust her. I'llexplain what's happened and she won't say a word to anybody. Thenabout getting you out of the castle. Uncle switches off thealarms from the control board in his bedroom directly theservants are about, but you'll have to wait in here until justafter nine when we shall all be at breakfast. Then I'll make anexcuse and leave the table and let you out."

"And that means," said John slowly, "that amongst otherthings"—his voice was husky—"you've got to pass abouteight hours here in that thin dress and"—he shook hishead—"it's going to be very cold."

She averted her eyes from his. "Then we'll take down the organcurtains," she said. "They'll be dusty but better than nothing."She nodded her head. "You shall have that side of the chapel,John, and I'll have this and we can talk across to one anotheruntil we go to sleep.

"No," said John firmly, "we'll keep together for a time yet.Remember, whoever's using that secret door may be coming here anymoment."

"Yes," he laughed back. "I never thought of it until thismoment. We had our own big trouble to worry about. Now, I thinkwe'd better put out that candle and watch. I see it's not goingto be quite dark. There's a little moon."

Then, hand in hand, they sat and whispered together with manymoments of silence, beyond all words, in between. They spoke ofthe wonder of the life that would lie before them; how they wouldbe married soon and then how happy they would be.

"But I've no money, John," said Ann presently. "You'll bemarrying quite a penniless girl."

"Thank heaven for that," replied young Harden instantly. "Youdon't want money with a face like yours."

"And uncle will never give his consent," went on Ann. "Weshall have to go off without telling anyone."

Presently he looked at his watch. It had seemed to them as ifa few minutes only had passed, but it was nearly two o'clock.

"And now you'll go to sleep," said John masterfully. "I'lltuck you up here and then go and lie down in one of those pews. Idon't feel sleepy and shall go on keeping watch. No, I'll notkiss you any more. You've had quite enough, and besides"—hepushed her gently away from him—"I never know when tostop."

He tucked her up in the big seat of the organ and thencrossing the aisle, stretched himself out in one of the pews and,with a hassock under his head, prepared to make himself ascomfortable as possible.

Ten minutes—twenty—perhaps half an hour passed,and then a small voice came from the direction of the organ.

Five minutes—ten—perhaps a quarter of an hourpassed and then came the small voice again,

John shivered too, but it was not from cold. "You're a badlittle girl," he said, "and it's a nurse, not a husband, that Isee you want." Then switching on his torch, and carrying hisshare of the curtain he walked towards where she was lying by theorgan.

And then surely, under the dim moonlight there, the saints andangels in the stained-glass windows of the old chapel were mutewitnesses of the strangest happening of all their eight hundredand more years.

Many a fair maid had they watched walk up the aisle, thatafter due ceremony and in course of time she might bear babes ofthe Thralldom blood to carry on the Thralldom line, and many ofthese babes had they seen later baptised at the font.

But now, they were beholding a maiden of the Thralldom blood,unwedded and unblest by sacrament of Mother Church, asleep in thearms of a man to whom she was bound by no ties, and whose verylips, even, had not touched hers until within a few short hoursago.

And she was sleeping so peacefully, too, with her head uponhis shoulder, just for all the world as if under his protectionshe was assured there could be no danger and she need have nofear.

The man was wide awake and although he looked round, from timeto time, his eyes were never long away from the girl's face.

It was thus as they were, when just as dawn was breaking,Larose pulled back the secret panel and stepped into the chapel.There had been no appearance of Croupin in the dungeons and thedetective, according to the arrangement made with the chef, hadcome up in search of food.

The sliding back of the panel made a slight noise and youngHarden, hearing it, instantly jerked his head round and rivetedhis eyes in the direction from which the sound had come.

He saw Larose before Larose saw him and, realising in a flashwhat was happening, disentangled himself from the sleeping girland springing up, advanced to interrupt the detective, just asthe latter had pulled the panel back into its place.

Ann awoke with a start and sat up. Larose heard the noisebehind him, and the strike of a snake could not have been swifterthan his movements in turning to face young Harden.

He realised instantly that Harden's intentions wereunfriendly, for the boy's face was grim and set and he had allthe appearance about him of one who was about to grapple with anenemy.

But Larose recognised him in two seconds and called outquickly, though not loudly.

"It's all right, Mr. Harden. Quite all right. I'm Larose, thedetective from Scotland Yard." And then, seeing the white-facedAnn behind the organ rails, he exclaimed in amazedsurprise—"Good Heavens! but what's Miss Devenham doinghere?"

Then it seemed that Ann herself was the first of them torecover from the surprise, for springing up and smoothing downthe crumples in her dress, she advanced quickly to thedetective.

"Oh! Mr. Larose," she exclaimed, "then it was you I saw goingin there the other night?"

The detective held up a warning hand. "Hush!" he said sharply."Don't speak so loudly. We mustn't be heard."

"But what is beyond that door?" asked Ann with widely openedeyes. "And what are you doing there? Does my uncle know?"

"Three questions, young lady," replied the detective, "and Ican't answer them all at once. But what are you and Mr. Hardenhere for at this time of the morning?"

"We are locked in," replied John Harden grimly, "and we can'tget out. That's why we are here."

A hot wave of crimson surged over Ann's face and neck, but shemoved defiantly up to Harden's side and slipped her arm throughhis.

"Two questions, Mr. Larose," she replied with a bow, "and likeyou, we shall find it easier to answer one question at atime."

"Good," said the detective and his face broke into a grimsmile. "I see we shall have to exchange confidences."

"Yes," said Harden looking very stern, "but before we go anyfarther, I'd like to know if it's with Lord Thralldom'spermission that you are acting as you are."

"No," replied Larose instantly, "Lord Thralldom is not awarethat I am here and for the time being it is not in his bestinterests that he should know." He looked every bit as stern asyoung Harden. "I am acting on behalf of the Crown and in mycapacity as an officer from Scotland Yard." He turned sharply toAnn. "And now Miss Devenham, will you please tell me when you sawanyone using this door before?"

And then Ann related quickly everything that had happened fromthe time of her falling asleep at the organ, two nightspreviously, to the moment when they had heard Lord Thralldomspeaking outside the chapel door and he had locked them in.

"We didn't call to anyone to let us out, Mr. Larose," sheadded, with her head held very high, "because I knew I had brokenthe spirit of my promise to my uncle by asking Mr. Harden to tryand find you, and I was sure he would have been furious with mefor doing it."

Young Harden had listened to her recital with swiftlyquickening feelings of anger against himself for, with theappearance of Larose, he was now realising for the first time thedreadful interpretation outsiders might put upon his night in thechapel with Ann. Alone with her, everything had seemed paltry andinsignificant in the light of the ecstasy of her companionship,but now——

Larose turned sharply to him and asked frowningly, "What timewere you locked in?"

"At about half past nine," he replied, now getting very red inhis turn, "and I saw at once that it was hopeless to pick thelock." He spoke hoarsely. "Of course it was a tragic mistake uponmy part, Mr. Larose, that I asked Miss Devenham to bring me here,for I am not a welcome visitor to the castle at any time. But itwas all done on the spur of the moment and then when we werelocked in"—he looked challengingly at thedetective—"I judged it best from the certain censure thatwould follow if we were discovered, to remain on here until wewere released in the morning." He was trying hard to keep hisvoice under control. "It was the lesser of two evils."

"And you did quite right, John," said Ann decisively, "and Ishall always thank you for it." She turned to the detective. "Myuncle would never have forgiven me if he had found out that I hadacted contrary to his wishes, and it might have brought on allhis illness again if he had known." She nodded her heademphatically to the detective. "Yes, whatever may be theconsequences to me, Mr. Harden did the right thing."

Larose smiled kindly at her. "And there shall be noconsequences, Miss Devenham," he said briskly, "for we willarrange that it shall be a secret between us three." He correctedhimself quickly. "Between us three and one other who will have tobe taken into our confidence."

"But where does that door lead to?" asked Ann, her curiositynow beginning to overcome her embarrassment.

"To the castle dungeons," replied the detective, "and I havebeen watching among them now for two nights and a day."

Larose hesitated a moment. "It would probably have been betterfor the peace of mind of us all," he said gravely, "if you hadnot come upon me in this way, for now I have no option but totake you into my confidence and tell you things that are notpretty, at any rate for a young girl, to hear." He frowned. "Youare both of you almost strangers to me, but now I have to entrustyou with a secret, upon the keeping of which my very life maydepend."

"You need have no worry about that, Mr. Larose," said Hardenquietly, "for it would be unfortunate for us to have to explainunder what circumstances you were compelled to give us yourconfidence."

The detective laughed softly. "Quite a good answer, sir," hesaid, "and I believe I shall be safe." He nodded his head."Besides, if I am any judge of character, I cannot imagine eitherof you are cowards. Now listen to me." He spoke very slowly. "Iam waiting down there for the coming of a man who is using thosedark chambers for a very dreadful purpose. We are not certain whothe man is, and we cannot determine as yet whether he comes frominside the castle or is a stranger who has effected an entrancethrough some passage that he has discovered, leading in fromoutside. At any rate he is mad"—he paused amoment—"and is a murderer."

"A murderer!" gasped Ann. "And he may live inside the castle!Oh! who can you suspect here?"

"The footman, William," was the stem reply. "There are verystrong suspicions against him, for we know for certain that hehas been rifling the coffins in the vaults."

"My God!" came from the girl. "And William is near us all,night and day." Her eyes dilated in horror. "But whom do yoususpect him of murdering?"

"Mr. Rawlings, for one," snapped Larose, "and perhaps others.Mind you," he went on, "we have no absolute proof yet that thebailiff is dead, but we believe he is and that his body liesburied somewhere down below. As I have said, the murderer we arewaiting for is a madman, and if it indeed be William, then havingdiscovered a secret passage leading out under the moat from thecastle, he has been going on to the marshes, night after night,and attacking anyone whom he has chanced to meet."

Then he proceeded to relate, in part, the discoveries thatAntoine had made about the footman; how the chef had passed themon to him, Larose, and how they had gone together into thedungeons two nights previously.

"No," replied Larose, suppressing a smile, "but he is an oldfriend of mine and after we had met by chance in the servants'hall the other day, he came to me the same night and toldeverything he had found out." He nodded. "You can trust him asyou would Mr. Harden here."

"Well, what are we going to do now?" asked Ann, too stunned tosuggest anything herself.

"You're going to help us," said the detective, "and the veryknowledge that you are doing so will steady your nerves andlessen your sense of fear." He smiled. "And for a reward, thefirst thing I am going to do is to get you out of your troublehere. Presently, I will take Mr. Harden back through that doorand when the housemaid comes at seven, she will find you herealone. Then, you will have to speak to Monsieur Antoine and tellhim exactly how things are and later bring some food and waterfor me and leave it under one of the pews here. Now, pullyourself together, young lady, and think how Mr. Harden can begot out of the castle, without anyone seeing him."

They talked together for a long while, and it was only almostupon the very stroke of seven that the detective and John Hardendisappeared behind the panelling. The detective went in firstand, for quite a long moment, stood with his back turned towardsthe lovers, pretending to make sure there were no sounds comingup from the spiral staircase below.

The panel closed behind them and alone at last, Ann sank backinto one of the pews, physically and mentally exhausted. Herdress was soiled and rumpled, her face was all smudged over andher hair was all dishevelled. She was just worn out with thevarying emotions of the night and her mind was torn and woundedwith the memory of the horrors that the detective hadoutlined.

But for all that she did not look unhappy. Her eyes werebright and sparkling, her cheeks were flushed daintily and therewas a curve, a very tender curve, about the corners of hermouth.

She looked in the direction of the organ many times and smiledand blushed and sighed.

Very little more than an hour later, Miss Ann Devenham, thegrand-niece of Lord Thralldom, walked into the big kitchen of thecastle and asked Antoine, the chef, for a lemon rind for herhands.

The chef was busy in his preparations for breakfast and therewere two maids with him.

Ann thanked him graciously for the lemon and then remarkedwith a pretty smile, "And I suppose, Monsieur Antoine, one of thethings you miss over here is hearing your beautiful languagespoken?"

"But yes, Mademoiselle," replied the chef smilingly, "Zere ismuch beauty in zis country"—he bowed gallantly—"butze words spoken are not like zose of my beloved Paris."

And then Ann rapped out in French, very sharply, but stillpreserving the pretty smile upon her face,

"Don't show any surprise. I'm going to drop my handkerchief.Follow me out into the hall with it. I want to speak to you mosturgently. It's about your friend in the vaults."

The Frenchman's heart beat violently, but his face continuedto be all smiles. "I will follow at once, Mademoiselle," hereplied quickly, and speaking also in his own tongue, "but if youcan help it, don't let that footman with the long face see ustalking together."

And then for two minutes in the hall Ann issued herinstructions rapidly. "I know everything," she said, "and amhelping Mr. Larose. Be in the garden by the artichokes justbefore ten. In the meantime, exactly at a quarter past nine,manage somehow to keep all the maids in the kitchen. I want tokeep the hall clear, for a friend of mine to get away from thecastle. Mr. Larose is quite all right."

"Bien, Mademoiselle," exclaimed the bewildered chef."It shall be done as you order."

And so, at a quarter past nine exactly, young Harden passedlike a shadow out of the castle, unhindered, and unseen byeveryone except Ann. He seemed to be in a great hurry, but forall that he had time enough to pause for one long and passionatemoment to embrace the flushing Ann.

Later in the morning, it was reported to Lady Deering thatthere had been a most regrettable accident in the kitchen for,just after breakfast, the chef had had the misfortune to breakone of the large, old-fashioned, hundreds-of-years old souptureens.

CHAPTER XIV. — THE DREADFUL VIGIL

TWO days and two nights had passed and Larosewas still watching for the coming of that assassin, who in somerecess of those dark chambers had secreted the bodies of themurdered dead. He was certain that he was upon the right trail,and that down the side of that gruesome slab had dripped theblood of more than one victim whose last remains he was nowseeking.

It was a dreadful vigil, for night and day were the same tohim in the darkness there, and it was by his watch only that hecould determine when day had dawned or night had fallen.

At first he had searched feverishly to find either an openingin the walls that would disclose a passage down under the moat,or one that would lead him to where the bodies had been buried,but he had soon come to realise that only by a miracle, almost,would he be successful in either quest.

He was hampered so greatly by the poor light at his service,for it was only by candlelight that he could search. His torchwould have soon run down and he had to conserve that for anemergency. He dared not light the lantern that he had seen in thevaults, because with the coming of whomsoever had been using it,the smell of the burning oil might warn him as he approached.Besides there was not more than two or three hours' oil left inthe lantern.

So, in the end, he had come to the conclusion that the onlything for him to do, was to wait with what patience he could andlet the assassin himself be the guide who should lead him to theplaces he was searching for.

But with two nights passing with no one appearing in thedungeons, a feeling of great depression began to take possessionof him. The dungeons were so cold and chilling and from time totime he shivered violently as if he were going to becomedownright ill.

He was weakening, too, for want of proper sleep. One fold ofthe blanket was all there was between him and the hard flags andhis only pillow was his arm.

The rats which at first were only an annoyance, had speedilybecome a positive torture, for their incessant squeaking was theleast of their activities.

In the darkness they never for one moment left him alone, andat last, in desperation, he tried to sleep with the candleburning. But after a while even that made no difference, for theytook to running boldly over him, and twice he was awakened by oneof them actually biting him.

When he was eating his sandwiches, too, their beady eyes werealways upon him, and when he dropped a crumb, they dashed for itas if they were expecting him to feed them.

He had seen nothing of Croupin, but upon both mornings justbefore five, had crept up into the castle for his food, to learnthen from a cryptic message under the leg of the kitchen table,that the Frenchman was certain he was still being watched andaccordingly was going to take no risks. Larose had left a messagein return, that all was well.

So things were, when towards noon upon the fourth day of hisvigil a great catastrophe occurred. His watch stopped and he hadno longer any means of learning the time.

He did not awake to the calamity at first, but between fitfulsnatches of sleep began to worry subconsciously, how slowly thehours were passing, and he had flashed his torch three times tosee what the time was, before it came to him what had actuallyhappened.

"Still not midday," he had murmured with his eyes half closed,"and I can hardly have slept at all." Then the third time, theposition of the hands seemed strangely familiar to him, and witha cry of dismay, he sat up with a jerk and held the watch up tohis ear. There was no tick in it and it had stopped at tenminutes to twelve. He shook it and opened it and shook it again,but to no purpose. Some of the dust of the dungeons had got inand it was as dead as a nail.

He was in dismay for now, he realised, there could be nopretence of sleep at all. He must remain awake until he droppedfrom sheer exhaustion and then that would be the end of all thisfine adventure upon which he had set such hopes.

"No, no, Gilbert," he said, bracing himself up, "this willnever do. You're made of better stuff than that. You're notbeaten by a long way yet. Where's your resource, my boy?" Hesmiled weakly. "You'll have to take a greater risk, that'sall."

So he left the dungeon where he had been lying, and withunsteady steps negotiated the corridor and climbed up the spiralstaircase to the panel behind the chapel wall. He stood listeningthere for a long time, but all was quiet, and he slid back thesecret door. The chapel was empty and he drew in big draughts ofthe purer air.

"Now, if I'd only thought of it," he frowned, "I could havemade this a place of rendezvous with the charming Ann, but it'stoo late now."

The light from the stained glass window, dim as it was, madehis eyes blink. "There's no sun," he whispered, "and it may beany time after two o'clock."

Greatly daring, he crept to the chapel door and opened it alittle way. He heard the cheerful sounds of people moving about,the sounds of distant voices and once someone laughed. Growingbolder, he crept into the passage and tiptoeing along its entirelength, craned his head round the corner. He could hear thevoices much plainer then and soon came the chink of cups andsaucers.

"Ah! afternoon tea in the lounge?" he exclaimed longingly. Hesighed. "That should make it about four o'clock." He blinked hiseyes wearily. "But oh! I'm so tired and I shall drop if I don'tget some sleep."

But suddenly he straightened himself up with animation, for anidea had come to him. "I'll have a nap in the chapel," heexclaimed. He smiled with something of his old vivacity comingback. "I'll sleep where the charming Ann slept, although I canhardly hope to have such happy dreams."

So, in two minutes he was settling himself back luxuriously inthe big seat before the organ, where three nights previously AnnDevenham had lain sleeping in her lover's arms.

"No, I'll not lie down," he whispered, "or goodness knows whenI shall wake up. Just a little doze," he went on drunkenly, "andat any rate, there'll be some peace from those rats. It'll reviveme a bit anyhow."

However, he did not by any means derive the benefit that hewas expecting, for the whole time his sleep was nothing but aseries of short dozes, with him waking up every few minutes andharassing his mind with each awakening as to whether he had beenasleep too long.

A dozen times and more he forced himself into completewakefulness to make certain the light was not waning through thestained-glass windows, and as many times again, he crept out ofthe chapel door to determine by any sounds that he might hear, asto how near the hour of darkness was approaching.

At last, upon one of these excursions into the passage, he nolonger heard anyone talking, but now the faint aroma of thepreparation of food was wafted to him.

"Dinner!" he murmured brokenly. "A hot dinner with good thingsto drink! Then later, a hot bath perhaps, and a divine sleep insome comfortable bed!" He frowned angrily. "Oh! what a fool I am,when I might have the life of a happy human being, instead ofalways going upon this infernal crime stunt." But a smile quicklyreplaced the frown. "No, no, Gilbert, you're not built that way.The gods made you a very foolish man."

He rubbed his eyes vigorously with his knuckles to dispel asmuch desire for sleep as possible and proceeded down into thedungeons again.

"After to-night, my boy," he said sadly, "you'll have to alterall your plans. You're coming to the end of your tether and withall the spirit in the world, you can't go without sleep for ever.You never bargained for this long watch."

Mentally, if not physically, refreshed by his incursion upinto the chapel, he returned to the dungeon that he was makinghis temporary home. It was the one nearest to the steps leadingdown into the vaults and he had chosen it in preference to anyother because he was sure that it was about there would lie theopening to the passage under the moat, and reclining upon hisblanket in the corner, he would have a clear view, too, of theslab upon which he had found those sinister traces of blood.

He pulled the door half to, as he always did, and thenproceeded to take down his blanket from where he had stuffed it,high up in a wide crevice in the wall.

But he trod on something soft, and flashing his torch down, acry of fury escaped him. His blanket had been torn to shreds andthere was not a piece in sight larger than the palm of a child'shand.

He shivered violently. "Oh! well, it is my own fault," heexclaimed woefully. "I ought to have taken it with me. Now, Ishall have a dreadful night."

And it required no great gift of prophecy to make him realisevery quickly that in this last surmise he was going to be quitecorrect.

He sat huddled in a corner on the bare stone in the darknessand he was soon in what he considered must surely be the laststate of misery.

He was depressed with the thought of the long hours of torturethat lay before him; he was chilled to the bone and shiveringviolently; also, he was deadly tired and almost sick for want ofsleep. But it was the rats that were his greatest torment. Hedared not light a candle, for it was now approaching towards thathour when if anyone were coming down into the vaults he wouldarrive soon, and, as before, they gave him no peace. As long ashe was upon his feet and flashing the light upon them, they kepttheir distance, but directly he sat down and extinguished thetorch, they swarmed upon him from all directions.

Unhappily, he had no satisfactory weapon with which to beatthem off, but he struck continuously at them with a big lump ofstone, and time after time, exasperated almost to the point offrenzy, jumped to his feet and scattered them.

All the time, however, it was with the greatest difficultythat he could keep awake, even when he was in the very act ofrepulsing his tormentors.

So, the hours dragged on until he reckoned it could not be faroff eleven o'clock.

Then suddenly it seemed as if the rats had at last had enough,for immediately after one of his fierce dashes upon them, theyall in a moment turned and scampered off. He was too tired tofeel in the least degree surprised at their departure and sinkingback exhausted, in a minute at the longest was fast asleep.

But his sleep had only lasted a very little time when theywere back all round him again, and he was awakened by one of themrunning over his face.

Then the battle commenced all anew but it was a very weariedman now who was defending himself. Indeed, after a while hisactions seemed to have become almost mechanical, and healternately kicked with his feet and thrust out with the handthat held the blood-stained stone.

A long while passed, hours and hours the detective thought,and then as suddenly as before, all the rats left him, and in afew seconds, in spite of almost superhuman efforts, he was asleepagain.

He had no idea as to how long the respite lasted and it wasnot the rats who finally broke into his troubled dreams. It wassomething quite different this time.

He had many times been stirring in his sleep as if somesubconscious warning were being given him, and at length half-awakened and drawing in a deep breath preparatory to a long sigh,his nostrils were assailed with an unaccustomed odour.

He shook his head vexatiously, not willing to be disturbed,but he had not smoked now for four days and his sense of smellwas in consequence very keen, and soon, very soon, he foundhimself wide awake and sniffing hard, with his eyes blinkingbewilderedly into the darkness.

Then all at once, he sprang to his feet as if no such thingsas exhaustion or weariness existed.

He darted to the half opened door and with dilated pupilsstared up and down the corridor. All was black and empty and hecould see no light or hear no sound anywhere. Indeed so quiet waseverything that the hush filled him with foreboding for it wasexactly as if some greater force for evil than they had terrifiedthe rats, and in the presence of some danger that they knew, theyhad swept panic-stricken into their holes.

But if the sudden silence was inexplicable, the explanation ofthe smell that had awakened him was very clear and definite, forthe instant he stepped out into the corridor the reek of burningoil was almost nauseating in its strength. Not only had someonepassed with a lantern but he had been carrying it with the wickturned too high and it had been smoking badly.

For a long minute the detective stood in the darkness, almostholding his breath in his excitement, and straining eyes and earsfor some sight or sound.

But he saw nothing and he heard nothing and he bit hard uponhis lips to make certain everything were not a dream.

Then he flashed his torch round and instantly he gave a gaspof horror and pressed his hand upon his heart for it had startedto throb so violently.

Upon the slab at the entrance to the vaults was outstretchedthe body of a man and from its overhanging head, the ghastlypallor of its face, and its sagging open mouth, it could only bethat the man was dead.

The detective clenched his jaws together like a steel trap,and invigorated as if he had imbibed a deep draught of wine,sprang over to the slab and touched the body. It was stillwarm.

Switching off his torch for a second to make certain that hiswas the only light in the corridor, he snapped it on againquickly and took a searching look at the body.

It was that of a man unknown to him and he was neither youngnor old. His appearance was refined and he had long white hands,upon one finger of which was a signet ring. At the back of thehead was a dreadful gaping wound.

But the detective snapped off his torch and darted to theentrance of the dungeon again, for he had heard a faint sound inthe distance, up along the corridor.

One minute, two minutes went by, and then about seventy oreighty yards away a glow of light appeared in the corridor. Itcame from the floor of the corridor itself, and a few secondslater it gave a shadow to a flag-stone, upraised, and at rightangles to the walls. Then a long arm, holding a lantern, cameinto view and lifted the lantern out into the corridor, then thehead and shoulders of a man appeared and finally, the man himselfstepped out, and picking up the lantern began to walk slowlytowards that end of the corridor where the detective was hidingbehind the opened dungeon door.

Larose darted back a few feet into the dungeon and with hisbody pressed up closely to the wall, and almost suffocated in hisexcitement, awaited the coming of the bearer of the lantern.

"At last, at last," ran his exultant thoughts, "in a fewseconds the assassin will be unmasked. I will wait until he haspassed the door and then spring upon him and bring him down. Ishall not need to use my pistol."

The lantern swayed and swayed and the man came nearer andnearer. Larose could hear his shuffling footsteps and his heavybreathing.

Then suddenly the totally unexpected happened, for in passingthe dungeon where Larose was hidden, either of deliberate purposebecause the detective had unwittingly left it jutting too farinto the corridor, or just by chance, the man lurched against theopen door and banged it to.

Two moments of agonising suspense ensued for Larose as the bigiron bar outside quivered ominously against the door. Then itcrashed down noisily into its heavy socket and the suspense wasover—for the detective knew he was a prisoner.

A sweat of fury burst upon the forehead of Larose, but by nogesture or exclamation did he betray his discomfiture. He wasmortified beyond all words, but it was his life's training toremain cool and unflurried in great crises.

He threw himself down at full length upon the stones and gluedhis eyes upon the narrow crack below the door.

But he shuffled along even more slowly this time and pantinghard, swayed the lantern more than ever. He soon passed out ofhearing, however, and the light faded away.

It was about five minutes before the detective heard any othersound, and then it was a distant thump as if the upraised flagthat he had seen had been dropped into its place.

"He's not passed again, at any rate," whispered the detectivehoarsely, "and therefore, whoever he was, he must have come frominside the castle,"—he hesitated—"unless he has notgone away yet." He nodded emphatically. "But I was right in whatI thought. The entrance to the passage under the moat issomewhere by the vaults and he lays the bodies each time uponthat slab after he has brought them in." He shuddered. "But whowas that last poor wretch?"

A few minutes went by and then the rats began to squeal again.He rose stiffly to his feet with a wan smile. "Yes, he's goneright enough and they think they're safe now. They evidently knowhim and are more afraid of him than they are of me. Anyhow, theywon't trouble me now, for if I cannot get out, they cannot get inand I shall have some peace at last." He shook his headdisgustedly. "But I ought to have thought about that bar andjammed it, so that it couldn't fall."

He returned to his position in the comer and wearily fussedhis hand over his forehead. "Now, of course, I shall have toremain shut up here all night, but to-morrow morning when Croupinsees I have not been up for my food, he'll, he'll——"But he was so exhausted that he could not think coherently andafter a few seconds closed his eyes, and tried to forgeteverything in sleep.

But cruelly enough, sleep would not come to him now. His brainwas in a whirl, and confused and rambling thoughts circledinsistently through his mind. He was so cold and stiff, too, andalthough so tired, could not keep his limbs still.

Then suddenly he pulled himself together and his heart beganto beat tumultuously once more, for all in an instant thesquealings of the rats had become accentuated to an extraordinarydegree, and he heard the pad of quickly rushing footsteps as ifsomeone were now chasing them and striking at them with someheavy implement like a spade. A light, too, flashed again underthe door, but it was not the lantern this time, for the flash asit passed was too steady to be anything but that of an electrictorch.

Then came low chuckling laughs in quick spasmodic jerks, as ifthe laugher were laughing with his mouth shut.

"Mad! mad!" ejaculated the detective wearily, "and so, he'snot yet sated his lust for blood. No wonder the rats scuttled offwhen he came! They knew what to expect."

The sounds soon died down in the corridor nearby, but theywere repeated at short intervals in more distant parts of theunderground passages and Larose could distinctly hear what he wasnow sure was the thud of a spade.

Four times he heard the thuddings, with the squealings eachtime rising to a crescendo and then everything stopped assuddenly as it had begun. By then, however, a feeling of suchutter prostration had come over him that he had lost interest inall that was happening.

The next morning Croupin was very worried. He had seen thatLarose had not been up for his provisions and he did not dare torisk a lightning visit to the dungeons, because he was positivethat William was watching his, Croupin's, every movement. Hecould not move anywhere out of the kitchen without finding thefootman, upon one excuse or another, always at his heels.

But he considered it vital that he should know what washappening to Larose, and, from the moment of finding that theprovisions had not been fetched, he taxed his fertile brain tothink of some way of getting in touch with the detective, and atlast, while he was preparing the breakfast for the family, he hitupon an idea.

He had not seen Ann to speak to since their meeting three dayspreviously in the kitchen garden by the bed of artichokes, buttheir conversation then had impressed him with the strength ofthe girl's character, and he now determined to appeal to her andinduce her to go down into the dungeon and see what had happenedto Larose.

"But she will not like it, the pretty one," he sighed, "to godown into the darkness among those rats, but she has the courageof those wicked ancestors of hers and when I tell her how seriousthings are, she will not refuse."

So he cut a lemon in two halves and also a small Jerusalemartichoke, and placing the four pieces upon a plate among somedainty paper frills, instructed one of the housemaids to takethem up at once to Miss Devenham's room.

"And you be quick, Rose," he said looking very distressed."Zey were to have gone up by eight o'clock and she will be veryangry. Tell ze beautiful miss I am so sorry but I forget and Ihope she will forgive me."

The girl looked at the plate. "But what's that artichoke for?"she asked, "What is the use of that?"

The chef threw out his hands. "Why, for ze finger nails, ofcourse." He smiled pityingly. "Zey always use zem in France. Nowyou go up quick, or I get ze sack, Oh! and mind and see if she isangry," he called out as the girl was leaving the kitchen. "Youwill tell by ze look on her face."

The girl was back again almost at once. "And she was notangry?" asked the chef for all the world as if he depended forhis very life upon the answer he was going to receive.

"No," smiled the girl. "She just looked very hard at theartichoke to see if you had given her a nice one and then said'It's quite all right, tell Monsieur Antoine.'"

The chef was delighted. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "she have a mostsweet disposition! I knew she had."

Soon after breakfast Croupin, having all the time kept a closewatch from the kitchen window, saw Ann walking in the garden, andhe quickly made his way there, too, carrying a small basket uponhis arm.

"I will get my own vegetables zis day," he had announced tothe girls. "Zat gardener pick ze first one he sees and have nojudgment."

He passed Ann with a deferential bow, without speaking, butthen having proceeded a few yards, he stopped suddenly and turnedback as if she had called him.

"You are wonderful, Miss Devenham," he said smiling, "and Iknew you would guess that I wanted to speak to you." His facebecame very grave. "I have something serious to tell you and Iwant you to do something for me."

Ann regarded him curiously and with a certain feeling ofannoyance. There was almost a note of authority in his tone, shethought, and he—the castle chef!

"Quick! turn your back to the windows," Croupin went on. "Theymay be watching and see your face. I was on the stage once andthey will get nothing from mine."

Ann complied frowningly and Croupin threw out his hands withhis face again all smiles, but when he spoke it was verysternly.

"Miss Devenham," he said quickly, "I have a favour to ask ofyou. No," he corrected himself, "because so much depends upon itit is almost an order that I am going to give you."

"And it will be no disrespect if I do, Mademoiselle," repliedCroupin sharply, "for my ancestors were such as yours. Mygrandfather was of the French nobility and the noblest blood ofFrance ran, too, in my mother's veins."

The girl's anger all suddenly died down and regarding withslightly heightened colour the good-looking face before her, shesaid simply, "And I believe you, Monsieur."

Croupin bowed and now spoke rapidly. "I am very anxious aboutMonsieur Larose," he said. "He is still watching in the dungeonsbut I have not seen him for three days. This night he has notcome up for his provisions and this morning"—he hesitatedas if he did not like to utter the words—"this morning,there was blood upon the handle of William's door."

"My God!" ejaculated the girl, as white as a sheet. "What doyou think has happened?"

"I do not know," replied Croupin, "and I cannot go down myselfbecause William is watching me. To my great grief, I slept lastnight, as I had not intended to, and where William went, I do notknow."

"Yes," replied Croupin instantly, and taking it for grantedthat she would do so, he proceeded to give her the most minuteinstructions. "Now, I dropped my electric torch in the bed ofmint as I came by," he said. "Pick it up as you pass. Go into thechapel and upon the panelling about where you saw us go throughthat night, you will find a dead fly. Press sideways about thebreadth of my hand to the left of the fly, and the panel willslide open. Close it after you have gone in. Then you willdescend eighteen steps, and at the bottom you will come upagainst a stone wall. Press upon a dark patch that you will seeat about the height of your shoulder and the stone will revolve.Pass through but don't shut that door. Leave it open for you tocome back. Then you will find yourself in a long corridor. Turnto the left and walk about a hundred yards. Monsieur Larose willbe in the last chamber on the right hand side of the corridor,and a few yards before you see some steps that lead to thevaults. You understand?"

"Ah! and another thing," went on Croupin carelessly, and as ifit were of no importance, "you may see some rats. Don't take anynotice of them. They will run away." He eyed her intently. "Youare not afraid?"

"Bien, Mademoiselle," said Croupin, and his stern facerelaxed into a warm, approving smile. "I was sure you would. Youare not really afraid but only think you are and it will be agreat adventure." He nodded his head. "And if you are not back intwenty minutes from now, I will risk everything and come afteryou." He smiled back. "If everything be all right, send Rosa foranother lemon."

Ann had spoken truly when she said she was afraid but, for allthat, she held her head high and there was no wavering in hersteps as she approached the panel in the chapel. Contrary to herexpectations, she found the opening easily and according to theinstructions of Croupin, although not without a tremor, sheclosed it behind her. The stairs were quickly negotiated and therevolving stone at the bottom did not worry her, but it was whenshe stepped into the long, low corridor, and the rays of hertorch shone down its ghostly lengths that the real test of hercourage and determination began.

She choked down a sob of terror as her torch reflected the thelight from hundreds of beady eyes, and stood stock still with herfeet as if rooted to the ground. But remaining stationary wasreally the best thing she could have done, for the rats scuttledpast her and in a few seconds she was alone.

With a great effort of will then, she forced herself to moveforward and her courage coming back, she started to run quicklyand to call out for the detective.

But she had run almost to the length of the corridor beforeany reply came and then a muffled and hoarse voice answered"Here! here! Let me out! Someone has shut me in!"

Her heart gave a great bound of thankfulness and all her fearsforgotten, she turned to the door from behind which the voice hadcome.

"Lift up the bar you see outside," replied Larose withsurprising cheerfulness for a man who but a short while beforehad thought he was sinking into unconsciousness.

"But I can't," she replied after a moment. "It's too heavy. Imust go and get help from the castle."

"No, no," came sternly from the detective, "anything but that.Do as I tell you and you'll get it up. Now listen. Take off oneof your shoes, place it upon your shoulder. Then lean hardagainst the door and put your shoulder under the bar as near asyou can to the socket and heave up slowly. No jerking, and take adeep breath before you begin. Don't be in a hurry."

She did as he told her and three times struggled to raise thebar, without however receiving the faintest promise ofsuccess.

"I can't move it," she panted at last. "It's too heavy or it'sjammed. Oh! let me go for Monsieur Antoine."

"Not yet," called back Larose imperatively. "We'll try anotherway. You'll see some steps a few yards further on. There are onlyfour of them. Go down and turn round to the right. Then in thecorner there, behind some stones, you'll find a crowbar. Bring itand swing it against the bar. You'll loosen it from the socketthen."

A couple of minutes elapsed and then he heard the girl returndragging the big crowbar behind her.

"But it's too heavy for me to swing," she cried despairingly."I can hardly lift it off the ground."

"Take it with both hands, by the middle, and then you'll beable to. Swing it a few times backwards and forwards first andthen bang it hard against the bar."

Laying her torch upon the ground, with a great effort Annmanaged to at last get the long length of iron properly balanced,and she started resolutely to swing it against the door. But thebar was high and she missed it every time. She soon tired, andwith every swing her efforts became weaker. At last, with onedespairing effort she lunged forward, and very wide of the baragain, the iron nevertheless just flicked against the socket. Ittouched it very lightly but a sharp crack followed and then bothsocket and bar crashed on to the ground.

The door swung open, missing the girl narrowly and thedetective reeled out into the corridor.

He stooped and picked up the broken socket. "Oh! oh!" heexclaimed ruefully, "if I'd pushed against the door, ever sogently, it would have given way. This socket's almost rustedthrough."

"Are you hurt?" asked Ann anxiously as she flashed the torchupon his face. "Oh! how ill you look!"

She might well say that, for the detective was an appallingspectacle. He looked the wreck of a man. He was shiveringviolently, his face was drawn and ghastly pale, his eyes wereswollen and bloodshot and he had been unshaved for four days.

"I've had no sleep," he whispered, "and I'm almost dead fromcold. I couldn't sleep all last night. I was so frozen." Hesmiled weakly and a little animation crept back into his face."But how is it you came down here?"

"Monsieur Antoine sent me," she replied. "William was watchinghim and he dared not come himself." She put one of her arms underhis and helped him to his feet, thinking rapidly all the time."Now don't worry any more," she went on. "I'm going to take youup into the castle and you shall have some proper food andsleep."

"No," said Larose firmly and freeing himself from her arm. "Imust remain down here. With something to eat and another blanket,I shall soon be all right again. The rats took the blanket that Ihad or I should not be like this now."

"You will come up," said Ann with great sternness, "and Iinsist upon it. I didn't torture myself to come down here fornothing, and you'll break down altogether if you don't get properattention now. I was training for a nurse once and know what I amtalking about."

The detective shook his head. "But it won't be for long," hepleaded. He passed his hand across his forehead and added weakly,"I think my work is almost done here."

But Ann had not been given her good chin for nothing and shetook his arm in a firm grip again.

"You're coming with me," she said quietly, "and you're goingto have a hot bath, some champagne, and a good sleep."

It was the thought of a hot bath that made the detective waverand his resolution was weakening palpably when he spokeagain.

"But how can it be managed?" he asked shakily. "No one in thecastle but Monsieur Antoine must know."

"You'll see," replied Ann quickly. "I'll arrange it somehow.Now you lean on me and take short steps! Come on, for those awfulrats are here again," and from that moment she had things all herown way.

She helped him, almost pushing him at times, up into thechapel and there she left him, lying in one of the pews whilstshe went to make her arrangements.

"Keep still," she said, "and don't worry. It will be a miracleif anyone comes in here, but if they do, pretend to beunconscious and don't answer any questions. I'll be back verysoon and you shall have that hot bath I promised you."

She went up to her little suite of rooms which consisted of asmall boudoir, with a bedroom, and a bathroom attached. One ofthe housemaids was making the bed.

"Be quick, please, Rosa," she said. "I've got a bad headacheand am going to have a sleep and don't want to be disturbed."

The maid left in a few minutes and Ann turned on the bath."Now for the critical moment," she thought, "and if anyone meetsus, I'll just have to say I found him wandering about." Shecaught her breath in apprehension. "But oh! if uncle ever gets toknow."

She had only one flight of stairs to go down and then sheturned into the long corridor leading to the chapel.

"Now quick, Mr. Larose," she said briskly, hiding all trace ofher nervousness. "We have only this corridor to go along and thenup one flight of stairs and we shall be all right." She fibbedboldly. "We are certain to meet no one."

And they did meet no one, but Ann had two frights. She heardLord Thralldom's voice a very little way away, just round thecorner in the lounge, and William himself passed across the endof the corridor, happily, however, without looking round.

The detective took no interest in anything. He was justcontent to be led along, with his eyes half shut and breathingheavily.

They reached Ann's room at last and she took the detective atonce into the bathroom. "Here's the bath all ready," she said,"and it's as hot as you can bear it." Then with no demur on hispart she proceeded to help him to begin to undress. "Don't be toolong," she went on, "and when you've dried, get quickly into bed.I've no pyjamas to offer you"—she blushed ever soslightly—"mine would be much too small, but here's ablanket you can wrap round you and it'll answer quite as well.Now, I'll go for that champagne."

She found the chef alone in the kitchen and told him quicklyeverything that had happened. Croupin gave her a low bow when shehad finished. "You are an angel, Mademoiselle," he said gently."Just an angel, that is all."

Larose had just thrown himself into the bed as she returnedwith some sandwiches and the champagne, and after eating a littleand taking a long draught of the wine, he felt revived enough tobe for the first time interested in his surroundings.

"But where am I, Miss Devenham?" he asked, looking in a dazedway round the chamber.

"In my bedroom,"—she blushed prettily—"and in mybed." She bowed and smiled. "It is some small return for yourconsideration to me the other morning when we met in thechapel."

"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Larose and with all his weakness heblushed too; "then I am exposing you to a terrible censure. Ifyour uncle learns——" But his eyes closed in dreadfulsleepiness and his voice trailed away.

"That's right," said the girl as she tucked the clothes roundhim. "You just go to sleep. You will be quite all right and noone will disturb you."

"But I must be up again to-night," said the detectivedrowsily. "I must—I must——"

"We'll see," replied the girl. "Now don't talk any more," andin half a minute he was as sound asleep as he had ever been inall his life.

Ann remained in her room all the morning, and at lunch-time,pleading the headache again, had her lunch brought up to her.Larose slept peacefully like a dead man and apparently, by hisstillness, was disturbed by no unpleasant dreams. Every now andthen she tiptoed into the bedroom and looked at him. Theafternoon waned and evening began to draw in. Then Ann summonedthe maid again and announced her intention of having dinner, too,in her room.

"Tell Lady Deering, please," she said, "that I am feeling muchbetter, but want to keep quiet and not talk until my headache isquite gone."

At nine o'clock, she was sitting reading in her boudoir whenshe heard a knock upon the door and mechanically called out "Comein." The handle of the door was turned slowly and then, to herconsternation, her uncle walked into the room. With a strongeffort she repressed all traces of emotion as she rose up andadvanced to meet him, bestowing a covert glance, however, at thedoor leading into her bedroom, which was ajar a few inches.

"Oh! Uncle," she said, forcing her face into a smile. "It'svery nice of you, I am sure. But why did you come up? I'm feelingquite all right now."

Lord Thralldom sank wearily into the arm-chair, which she hadmoved forward for him.

"I wanted to speak to you," he replied fixing his great eyesupon her, "for I am worried about you."

"Oh! it wasn't about that," he replied carelessly. "Girls arealways imagining they've got headaches and other things." Helooked at her very sternly. "I am worried about that business inthe chapel the other day."

The girl's heart beat unpleasantly, but her smile was a readyone. "Well, forget about it," she replied brightly, "and don'tlet it worry you any more. It doesn't worry me." She laughed withanimation. "Now, have you been worshipping as usual before theRubens to-day?"

But her uncle was not to be put off. "I am always afraid of awoman with a secret," he said frowningly, "for they are creaturesof impulse and never to be fully trusted." He spoke sharply. "Nowhave you said a word to anyone about the idea you had of thatsecret door?"

She drew herself up proudly. "Did I not make a promise toyou?" she asked, speaking quite as sharply as he had done.

She tossed her head defiantly. "Well, a Thralldom never lies,"and she bowed as if to dismiss the whole matter.

He regarded her very thoughtfully. "I'll take you down in thedungeons one day," he went on, "and let you see what they arelike"—he turned his eyes away now and put up his hand tostifle a yawn—"perhaps to-morrow or the day after." Helooked back at her again. "But no mentioning it to anybody, mind.I don't want a pack of sightseers at our heels. Oh! and one thingmore. I have upon several occasions mentioned to you and yourmother that I have willed all my possessions to the NationalGallery in the interests of Art." He nodded significantly. "Well,my lawyer will be coming here on Thursday and I intend"—hesmiled a slow inscrutable smile—"to make a differentdecision then."

He bade her good-night and walked slowly from the room.Breathing a great sigh of relief, she went into the bedroom and,finding her patient was now wide awake, switched on the light.She thought he looked very frightened.

"Much better," replied the detective. He leant upon his elbow."But look here. I heard what your uncle said and you must promiseme"—he spoke most deliberately—"that under nocircumstances whatever will you go down into those dungeonsunless I am with you. You understand? Under no circumstances;whoever asks you."

"Because," he replied, "you are forcing me to tell you, thereare the bodies of the murdered dead down there and, if you seethem, they will become the nightmare of all your life and you maybe so horrified that when you have children they may be bornimbeciles."

The pallor on the girl's face was now even greater than hisown and she caught her breath in a nervous gasp, "But youfrighten me!" she exclaimed.

"I mean to," he said sharply, "for there are things there noyoung girl should see." He repeated his request. "Now, youpromise me."

Larose dropped back upon the pillow and then spoke in quite adifferent tone. "You've been an angel of compassion to me, MissDevenham," he said gently, "and I can never be grateful enough toyou." He looked round and then laughed with some embarrassment."I wonder how you dared to bring me up here."

The girl laughed back. "I had to, Mr. Larose," she replied."It was forced upon me. I couldn't leave you down there in thecondition you were in, and this is the only room I could be sureno one would come into. Besides"—and she flushedhotly—"you were so nice to us that morning in the chapel.You didn't smile and think we were horrid. You just tookeverything as a matter of course, and as if it were nothing outof the ordinary." She bowed. "You saved my reputation, sir, andyou drew all the sting out of the remorse Mr. Harden was feelingbecause he had asked me to bring him into the chapel."

"Well, he'll have no remorse in years to come," smiled Larose,"for it consecrated you to each other for all your lives." Hesighed. "You are a charming girl, Miss Devenham, and I envy Mr.Harden from the bottom of my heart." He craned his head above thebedclothes and looked round for his clothes. "Now, I'll begetting up."

But Ann was instantly the imperious nurse again. "No, Mr.Larose, you won't," she said firmly. "As I told you this morningI've harrowed my feelings a lot for you and run a lot of risks,too, so you're going to obey me now. To-morrow morning beforeanyone's up, you shall get up and go, but until then"—shesmiled—"you are my patient."

"I won't give you your clothes," she interrupted, "so that'sfinal. Now, you'll have something more to eat and then go off tosleep again. Remember, you have three nights' sleep to pickup."

Larose frowned. He realised the wisdom of doing as shesuggested, but was worried at the idea of not at once resuminghis search. "But where are you going to sleep?" he askedhesitantly.

"Well," he said after a moment, "can you take a message for meto Monsieur Antoine?" and when she nodded he went on with asmile, "Tell him you are allowing me to get up to-morrow morningat five and I'll go straight to the kitchen then."

She switched off the lights and, assuring him that no onewould be likely to disturb him in her absence, departed upon hermission, to return, however, very shortly with the informationthat she had spoken to the chef and that the latter would bewaiting for him at five o'clock.

Larose thanked her gratefully and then, turning on his side,was asleep again almost at once.

CHAPTER XV. — THE RAID UPON THE CASTLE

CROUPIN was very thoughtful that evening when,in a few and hurried words, Ann had told him that Larose would beremaining on in her room until the morning, but was intending togo back into the vaults at five o'clock on the morrow, refreshedwith a good night's rest.

The chef had received with great relief her assurance thatLarose was recovering, but, after she had left him, with therealisation all at once that no one would be keeping watch now inthe vaults that night, he began to be very troubled.

"And to-night William himself may go down into the vaults," hethought ruefully, "and if he does, may easily chance upon someevidence that another person has been there recently. Miss Annsays Larose was dazed and most exhausted when she found him, andin that condition it is hardly probable that he thought ofbringing up his blanket with him. So, if William sees it there,or any of the paper that I wrapped the sandwiches in, or theempty bottles of wine or the little basket that carriedthem"—he threw out his hands despairingly—"theneverything will be ruined, for he will take warning and perhapsnever give us a chance of catching him again."

He frowned. "And I don't like the look of that William now.There's some change in him that I don't understand. He isbrighter, and has been smiling that strange smile of his as if,at last, he is relieved about something and able to throw offsome feeling of dread or suspicion that has been haunting him. Idon't understand either about that blood upon the door-handle. Hemay have cut his hand, of course, but he is so secretive abouthimself that I have never had a chance to see."

He thought for a long while and then snapped his fingerstogether with a grin. "Well, I must dope him again; that's all.It will stir up all his suspicions, but I can't help it. Anythingrather than that he should go into the vaults to-night."

He went on. "But how am I going to do it? He refuses coffeenow and draws his own water from the tap. He will only drink teawhen he has seen one of the girls make it, actually under hisvery eyes, and he himself picks out every cake and biscuit thathe eats. He watches me carving too, as if he were a cat watchinga mouse." He grinned again. "No matter, old Croupin is a boy ofgreat resource and he'll manage it somehow."

Monsieur Antoine, then appeared to be in a merry mood thatnight as he prepared the supper for the servants' hall, and asusual with him when he was happy, talked a lot to everybody.

"Now, as you have all been good girls and boys to-day," heannounced with twinkling eyes, "I give you special treat. Youshall have some of zat famous soup zat no one but me can make.The secret was only known to me and ze Pope of Rome, as he tellme the other day he have forgotten it, zen only me can make it asit should be done. So get your mouths ready to water when I putit on to ze table."

Then, in due time, after much mystery and with the jugglingtogether of many pots and pans, he produced a saucepan ofsteaming soup, giving off most delicious and appetisingaromas.

"No, no pushing," he remonstrated, as if he were addressing acrowd of hungry school-children, "zere is enough for all. But yousit down, everyone, and I will serve it myself so zat no one gettoo much. Also, as it is my birthday and I am just twenty-one to-day—you need not laugh Mees Rosa for it is ze wisdom in myface zat make me look so old—I will put on a bottle of zewine of France afterwards."

They took their seats as he had ordered, and he proceeded toserve them, one by one, leaving William and himself untillast.

Then he came over to the table with two servings, one, a goodone which he set down before William, and the other a muchsmaller one which he was reserving for himself.

"Ah! but you will enjoy zis," he beamed round upon them all."Ze Pope of Rome once say—Why what is zat for?" heexclaimed, for William had suddenly reached over across the tableand exchanged his own serving for that of the chef.

"Only that you are helping me to too much," replied thefootman with a quiet smile. "I'll have this little serving thatyou were taking yourself," and giving the apparently disgustedchef no time to remonstrate, he dipped his spoon in his plate andbegan to eat.

Outwardly, certainly Monsieur Antoine was the very picture ofastonishment, as if amazed beyond all measure that anyone couldhave too much of his precious soup, but inwardly he was chucklingin his joy.

"I knew, I knew you'd do it," danced his exultant thoughts,"and now you've given the veronal to yourself. You are clever,Meester William, and prepared for everything, but there is onecleverer than you, and he is the poor old Croupin here. Ha! ha!ha! Deep dreams, my son, for there'll be only bed for you to-night."

"But, Monsieur Antoine," called out the pretty Rosa, "thefried onions in this soup are very strong. It is delicious but weshall all smell."

"Zat is what ze Pope of Rome say," laughed the chefdelightedly, "but he have it all ze same." He shook his head."Ah! zis is not ze soup for lovers, Mees Rosa. Nevaire, nevaireeat onions before you go to make ze love." He sighed heavily. "Iforgot zat once and lose a lovely lady. She was rich countess wizmillions of pounds. She turn her nose away and love anuzzer atonce. It was very sad."

"Law! but what company you must have kept, Monsieur Antoine,"exclaimed Rosa. "Fancy you knowing a countess to speak to!"

"Oh! I did much more zan speak to her," smiled the chef, "andwhen I lose her, it was a great blow."

"But you've made up for it since, Froggy," laughed Jamescoarsely; "I'll bet you've had hundreds after her."

They all laughed derisively, but Monsieur Antoine, as if to atonce prove the truth of his assertion, took the hand of Berthawho was sitting next to him, and squeezed it tenderly in front ofthem all.

The chef was at his merriest after the meal, and it was withregret, when ten o'clock arrived, that Isobel, the headparlourmaid, shepherded the maids up to their respective rooms,with the men-servants proceeding to lock up for the night.

In the meantime Hudson and Kelly down at the old house on theHaven had passed a very worried day. They were furious, for theywere in a way of being hampered in all their plans because Fennerhad taken himself off without a word of explanation, and the onlyreason they could think of for his going, was that he must havebecome frightened at the last moment and determined to sever allassociation with them in their contemplated raid that night uponThralldom Castle.

The last they had seen of him was on the previous eveningwhen, just as it was beginning to get dark, he had announced hisintention of going out as usual to continue his search for theopening to the passage that would lead them into the castle underthe moat.

"And I'll be making a last search among the ruins of thePriory," he said, "and there is still a chance we may be able toavoid all the danger of having to break in." And Kelly had jeeredat him, as he always did, for being so obstinate.

They had not become aware that Fenner had left them until wellon towards midday when Hudson had gone into the bedroom, to findthat it was unoccupied and, moreover, that the bed had not beenslept in.

"He's quit, right enough," snarled Kelly, "and I'm not a bitsurprised. There was always too much of the kid-glove about him,and he was full of his blasted arguing instead of being willingto get to work."

Their anger was the greater because they had definitely fixedthat night, or rather, the very early morning, for their attemptto obtain the Rubens, and they could not possibly postpone it.The captain's stay at the castle was almost at an end, the moonwould be just right, there had been no rain for three days toallow of any incriminating footmarks being left, and they hadeverything prepared.

Exactly at a quarter past two, Captain Bonnett was to signalto them by the flashing of a torch in the window of the footman'slittle room off the entrance hall. Then they would climb over thebig gate on the drawbridge by means of a rope ladder, long enoughto reach down over both sides at once; then Kelly would cutthrough the bars of the window with an oxy-acetylene torch andafterwards cut out the entire window pane with a diamond.

They believed they had provided for every possible contingencyand Fenner's part, a very subordinate although a very essentialone, would have been to have first helped with the carrying ofthe heavy cylinders and the other things that they were taking,and then to have kept watch outside the castle to warn them ofany danger approaching from along the marsh road.

They sat outside, about the house all day, gloomy andfidgeting and saying very little to each other. It was not a daywhen Kelly was due up at the castle, and Hudson would dearly haveliked to have got into communication with Captain Bonnett, ifonly to be assured that all was quiet and everything stillpropitious for the adventure of the night, but he had no adequateexcuse to ring up and did not dare to do so, being mindful of theenquiries that would be made later everywhere, if their raid uponthe paintings were successful.

"But, my word!" he exclaimed suddenly, breaking one of thelong silences, "won't there be a hell of a stir tomorrow. Weshall have the 'tecs from all over this darned country down hereand they'll want to have a jaw with everyone," and he laughednervously as if, with the actual moment of the attemptapproaching, he was not too easy in his mind.

"And what does it matter if they do?" commented Kelly gruffly."They can't touch us unless they've got some proof, and who theblazes would think of digging in these sandhills for stuff worthfifty thousand quid. No," he went on emphatically, "we're quitesafe and nothing can go wrong if that fool Bonnett does exactlyas we told him, and by this time to-morrow we shall be sittingquiet and enjoying watching the rotten police dancing all aboutthe place."

The day dragged on and at last darkness fell with all thepromise of it going to be a fine night.

They had a light supper just before midnight, which, on theAmerican's part, at all events, consisted in the main of stiffbrandies and sodas, and then they began to gather up theirapparatus.

"Curse that Fenner," growled Kelly deeply, "these cylindersare darned heavy and at least he'd have been of some use,carrying one."

At twenty minutes to two they set off along the road leadingover the marshes. The stars were showing and the moon, towardsthe end of its last quarter, gave them just sufficient light topick their way.

A few minutes after two they were crouching by the castledrawbridge and at a quarter past, to the very second, the lightflashed in the little room.

"A good beginning," whispered Hudson, moistening his dry lips,"now, over with the ladder and I'll go first."

The gate was easily negotiated and leaving the rope-ladderwith both its ends trailing upon the ground, they crept up to thecastle walls. They saw Captain Bonnett inside the footman's roomwith his face pressed up close against the window pane. He lookedghastly white, but he nodded and his lips framed the words "Allright."

The American's teeth were chattering, but the cool andbusiness-like way in which Kelly proceeded to set about his worksoon calmed him and his hand was quite steady as he helped toscrew the connections on to the cylinders.

"A wonderful little invention, the oxy-acetylene torch"whispered Kelly enthusiastically, "and you'll be surprised at thelittle noise it makes—no louder than the burning of a smallPrimus stove."

He slipped a roll of stout asbestos padding behind the bars sothat the heat of the torch should not crack the glass in thewindow and then, with Hudson holding a large beach umbrella linedwith thick black cloth behind him so that no one across themeadows should see the light of the flame he set a match to theoxygen and started operations.

"No one will see us a hundred yards away," he whisperedexultingly, "and no one will hear us, twenty. Keep the umbrellaas close as you can."

The torch hissed sibilantly, and under its fierce heat thesolid bars were cut through, almost as if they were butter. Kellymight have been a man of most unpleasant disposition, but he wascertainly a most efficient workman and knew what he wasabout.

"Now quick, grab hold of that bar," he ordered sharply. "It'sjust going to fall and we mustn't have a sound." He laughedsneeringly. "I've always wondered this old fool here doesn't keepa couple of savage dogs. They'd have made things difficult, ifyou like."

In a few minutes the bars were all cut out and then Kelly,first tightly wedging the window frame with some strips of leadthat he had provided, proceeded to cut all round the glass with adiamond. Captain Bonnett was now standing close up to the windowagain and holding a blanket, folded, in his hand.

Kelly nodded and the captain at once began to press lightlyagainst the glass with his blanket. Then Kelly, with his elbowsheld closely to his sides and with the palms of his hands wideopen, struck sharply against the glass. Once, twice, three timeshe struck, and then with just a gentle crack, the glass fell intothe blanket that the captain was holding, and Kelly and Hudsonstepped into the room.

"Wonderful!" ejaculated Hudson wiping the perspiration fromhis forehead, "I should never have thought it would be sosimple."

"Everything's all right," whispered the captain breathlessly,"but put the sucker on." He looked anxious. "You haven'tforgotten that?"

Kelly smiled contemptuously, but then taking a large suctiondisc from his pocket, spat vigorously upon it a few times andthen attached it to the middle of the pane of glass now lyingdown upon the ground. A line of stout whipcord was then tiedround the handle of the sucker.

"So, your pretty little soul is saved," he jeered, "and youneedn't worry." He handed over some small coils of wire to thecaptain. "Get away, quick now, and screw these across the stairs.Half way down, too, so that anyone will have a good tumble.They're all measured off and of just the right length. I haven'tbeen coming up here for nothing." He flashed his torch upon thecaptain's face and spoke menacingly. "And mind you watch, allright. No shouting if you hear anything suspicious but just comeand tell me. I've got a knuckle-duster and am good for a footmanor two," and he and Hudson then padded softly away in thedirection of the gallery.

"Everything's going splendidly," whispered Hudson as theyarrived at the big grille, "and if you cut these bars as easilyas you did the others, we shall never need to work for anotherday in our lives. Things couldn't be better."

But he was very much mistaken, for Croupin had been an unseenand intensely interested spectator of all that had been going onfrom the moment when they had started the oxy-acetylene torchoutside the window, and behind a big settee in the hall, hadnodded many times in professional appreciation of the expeditiousmanner in which they had effected an entrance.

He had tucked himself up in bed soon after ten, but for somereason he had been very restless and the hours going by withouthis falling asleep, the idea had suddenly come to him that hewould go down into the dungeons and bring up the things that hewas sure the detective had left behind, for after all he toldhimself, it was quite possible Larose might not be well enough toresume his watching in the morning and he, Croupin, could not goon doping the footman indefinitely.

So, partially dressing himself, he had crept down the stairsand had been just upon the point of turning into the corridorleading to the chapel, when a faint hissing sound had caught hisear.

He had stood as if rooted to the floor for a few seconds andthen he had caught his breath in a thrill of ecstasy.

"An acetylene torch!" he gasped. "Someone is trying to breakin." He drew himself up to his full height and grinneddelightedly. "And I, Croupin, am here to prevent it."

He crept like lightning into the hall and along its entirelength and then crouching down was a witness of all that washappening.

"Captain Bonnett!" he gasped again as his amazed eyes took inthe figure of the captain silhouetted against the flare of theacetylene torch. "Then he is helping them! The wretch, and I owehim one, for James said he agreed with the lord that my Tartaresauce was too thick. A guest here, too! Oh! the bad lot!"

He saw the pane of glass removed and Kelly and Hudson stepinto the room and he gasped again. "But I might have known it,"he breathed. "I guessed it all along."

He heard the sharp whispered instructions that Kelly gave tothe captain and with the disappearance of the latter, he followedthe other two at a respectful distance, up the stairs leading tothe picture gallery.

"They'll cut through the grille in the same way, of course,"he went on, "but they'll have to be very clever if they get theRubens out of its frame without sounding the alarms." He noddedhis head. "But I won't give them the chance. I'll just let themget going well and then I'll give the alarm myself." He grinneddelightedly. "The honest Croupin saving the priceless Rubens forthe great lord!"

He watched them adjust the cylinders, and setting light to thetorch, start upon the bars of the big grille. Kelly was as quickand dexterous as before and, one by one, the bars were cutthrough. Four, Croupin counted them and then he thought it abouttime to interfere.

"But I'll lock the door of the little room first," hemurmured, "and cut off their retreat. I saw the key was in thelock outside."

He ran down the stairs and swiftly through the hall, butapproaching the little room was brought up dead by the flash of atorch through the glassless window frame, and the sound of lowvoices.

"They went in here, Inspector," he heard someone say. "They'vecut the window pane right out."

"Well, we'll follow the same way," came a voice of authority,"in you go, Barney and you, too, Valentine. You, Reney watchoutside. Stand well clear of the window so that you can see ifthey attempt to break away from somewhere else."

Croupin did not wait to hear any more, but raced like agreyhound towards the chapel. "It's the police," he gasped. "Theyare after them, and will steal all my glory if I do not look out.But I'll get in first and ring the great bell in the belfry," andhe began to tear up a narrow flight of steps not far from thechapel door.

Kelly had proceeded quickly with his work and seven bars werecut through. "That'll do," he grunted, "we can get through now,"and he turned off the gas.

Then just as he was in the very act of squeezing through theopening he had made, a loud resounding clang broke into thesilence of the night.

"Dong, dong, dong," and the echoes of the great bell werereverberating for miles over the countryside.

"Hell!" roared the American, "someone's heard us! Get for yourlife," and, followed by the deeply cursing Kelly, he flew downthe stairs.

But the flight of both of them came to a very speedyconclusion. Hudson bumped straight into the arms of InspectorDollard, of Saxmundham, who promptly tripped him up and held himdown, while Kelly was floored by the outstretched leg of PoliceConstable Valentine, who had flashed his torch just in time tosee him coming.

"Switch on the lights," shouted the Inspector, and at once thehall was as light as day.

Hudson made no attempt at resistance, but Kelly showed fightand got in some nasty blows at two of the policemen before he wasfinally knocked down and handcuffed.

Then for a few minutes pandemonium raged. Shouts and criescame from all parts of the castle; the alarms buzzed everywhereand there were loud thumps as James and the butler were trippedupon the stairs.

"Look out, my lord," shrieked Croupin, who had now returned tothe scene of the conflict. "Zere may be a wire stretched acrosszose stairs," and Lord Thralldom, with surprising agility,avoided the wire that had almost caught him.

"But what's happened?" roared the master of the castle like anold lion roused from his sleep. He threw up his hands. "MyRubens! my Rubens! What's happened? Tell me quick."

"It's all right, my lord," replied Inspector Dollard smiling."Quite all right. They've not touched any of your pictures. Wegot here just in time."

Then Lord Thralldom started back as if he had been struck withthe lash of a whip.

"Great God!" he cried, glaring at the two handcuffedprisoners. "Mr. Hudson and the masseur!"

Hudson was ghastly white and breathing hard, but Kelly wassmiling and looking quite pleasant for him. "Yes, the masseur, mylord," he grinned. "The masseur who massaged your niece."

"Oh! no, my lord, it isn't," laughed the Inspector. He jerkedhis head round. "They got in through that little room there byoxy-acetylening the bars and taking out the entire windowpane."

"But were they alone?" asked Lord Thralldom wildly. "Someoneinside here must have helped them."

"I don't think so," said the Inspector, "for after they hadbroken the glass, they lowered it to the floor with a largesucker on a piece of cord. That looks as if they had no helpinside."

"But how did you come to know they were here?" asked LordThralldom now beginning to recover from his panic.

Inspector Dollard took out his watch. "Twenty-seven minutesago, my lord," he replied, "we got a telephone call from a partywho declined to give his name, that two suspicious-lookingcharacters were approaching the castle along the marsh road,heavily laden, and he was of opinion that they were carrying gascylinders. I immediately tried to get you on the 'phone here toascertain if all was right, but learning that your wires weredead, I suspected something and came along at once." He smiledhappily and put back his watch. "And a good thing we lost notime."

"But who ordered the great bell in the belfry to be rung?"asked Lord Thralldom sharply. "Did you do it to summon morehelp?"

The Inspector, looking very puzzled, shook his head, and thenCroupin thought that he himself ought now to step into thepicture.

He glanced round and his chest expanded, for he saw he wouldbe having a splendid audience. All the inmates of the castleappeared to be there.

The maids were huddled in a corner of the hall, withfrightened eyes and in varying conditions of undress; AnnDevenham looked charming in a pink dressing gown, with her prettyhair all ruffled up, and the men servants were gaping inamazement, although William could hardly keep his eyes open.

Croupin stepped forward into the centre of the hall. "Mylord," he said, bowing, "it was I who rang ze big bell."

Croupin shot out his arm and pointed dramatically at theprisoners. "I saw zose men zere melting ze bars of ze grille. Itwas like zis. I could not sleep and leant out of my windowbecause I have ze headache. Zen I smell something and knew it wascarbide. I ask myself 'Who is using carbide in ze middle of zenight?' I open my door and ze smell is stronger. I follow zesmell and it lead me to ze gallery. I guess at once what washappening and I ring ze bell to wake all ze country so zat zegreat Rubens be not taken."

"And you tumbled them into our arms," laughed the Inspector."You could not have done better."

"These two wretches were alone, and there was no one else withthem?" asked Lord Thralldom sharply.

Croupin was silent for a moment and then his words were likethe exploding of a bomb.

"Only Captain Bonnett," he replied calmly, "and he watch sothat no one come near to interfere." He looked with accusingsternness at the captain. "I see him, but he not see me. He knewzey were zere right enough."

Captain Bonnett had gone as white as a ghost, but he shoutedenergetically enough. "You liar! I was asleep in my bed when thebell rang." He turned to Lord Thralldom. "The man is mad,sir."

"Oh! no you were not in your bedroom," insisted Croupin. "Youstood by zat door and you were listening first one way and zen zeother. I saw you."

But Kelly interrupted harshly. "Oh, chuck it, Bonnett," hesneered. "You'll come along with us, too." His anger rose. "Yougreat fool! If you'd kept your eyes open and seen this damnedcook here, we might have throttled him and nothing would havegone wrong." He gritted his teeth. "Now, it'll be seven years forus—hard labour." The captain was speechless. He could notget his breath. Lord Thralldom spoke very slowly. "It's not true,Thompson. You are lying and——"

"Lying, you old fool!" retorted Kelly coarsely. "Then who cutthe telephone wires in here if it wasn't your precious captain?"He laughed mockingly and turned to the Inspector who was holdingHudson by the arm.

"Put your hand in that chap's breast pocket," he jeered, "andpull out the paper there. It's a map of all the rooms here, withnotes, in the dandy captain's own handwriting and the rooms ofthe men are marked with a cross."

The Inspector hesitated a moment and then, apparently with noobjection on the part of the American, did as he was requested.He drew out a folded paper and after one quick glance over it,handed it to Lord Thralldom.

Lord Thralldom's glance was a quick one, too, and then lookingup, he regarded the captain as if he could have killed him."Handcuff him," he shouted, "and if I could get him hanged forthis, I would." His voice boomed thunderously. "Take them allaway quick, out of my sight or I shall strike them. My Rubens isa sacred trust and I would spare no one, not even my own fleshand blood, if they laid hands upon it." He was sweeping out ofthe hall when he turned again to the Inspector and spoke sharply."I shall want police protection until the morning and every nightuntil I have taken further measures to protect my property." Hebeckoned to the footmen. "Leave all the lights on now until themorning, and you, James, go and keep watch in the gallery untilit is light. Don't close an eye. You understand?"

"Yes, my lord," bowed James, but surely no one had curseddeeper that night than did James then, under his breath.

The prisoners were removed in the police car and in a fewminutes all the inmates of the castle had left the hall.

Lady Deering ascended the staircase leading to the bedrooms,leaning heavily upon her stepdaughter's arm.

"But this is awful, Ann," she exclaimed tearfully, "for youruncle and I were arranging that you should marry Marmadukeshortly." She shook with fright. "Oh! I feel I shall never go tosleep again. At any rate I dare not sleep by myself any more to-night. I will come into your bed with you at once."

It was now Ann's turn to shake. "No, not in my bed,Mother,"'she said quickly, "but I will come and sleep with you.The owls outside my window are terrible to-night and we shall bethinking all the time, as uncle says, that they are mensignalling to one another."

In her confused state of mind that was quite enough for LadyDeering and she consented to be led to her own room without anyfurther remonstrance. Then Ann returned to hers to switch off thelights and, as she had told her stepmother, to fetch her hot-water bottle.

She found Larose was up and dressed and very anxious as towhat had been going on downstairs. She told him quickly and thenasked, very troubled, "And do you think William had anything todo with it too? I was watching him just now and, all the time, hewas pretending to be so sleepy that he could hardly keep his eyesopen."

The detective shook his head. "No, I don't think for onemoment that he was mixed up in this," he replied, "and it may behe was not pretending either when he looked, as you say, as if hecould hardly keep awake." His tone was very grave. "As I havetold you, we are endeavouring to track down the perpetrators ofthose dreadful crimes that have been committed here, and thematter is so serious that it is quite probable Monsieur Antoinesomehow gave William a sleeping draught so that, in my absence,he should not go down into the vaults to-night."

The girl shivered. "But oh! this is a horrible place," sheexclaimed, "and with all its luxury, I wish I were away fromit."

"I expect you soon will be," smiled Larose, "and then thehappiness of your new life will make up for all you lose here."He spoke very earnestly. "If I were you, Miss Devenham, Iwouldn't hesitate a moment, but would let Mr. Harden have his wayand take you off at once, as he wants to. From all you both havetold me, you will have to run away in the end."

Ann was silent for a few moments and then she sighed deeply."But no girl in my position, Mr. Larose," she saw slowly, "likesto go to her husband with just the clothes she stands up in, anda few shillings in her purse, as I should have to if I ran away."She held her head up proudly. "It wouldn't be fair to Mr.Harden."

"Nonsense," smiled the detective; "if I know anything of Mr.Harden, he'll be thrilled to take you even if you haven't got apostage stamp." His expression changed suddenly to one of greatsternness. "Now, listen, Miss Devenham. I may very shortly beadvising you to do something, and I want you to be prepared to dothat something, without questioning and at once. Youunderstand?"

"No, I don't," she replied, "but I'll always consider what yousay, for, as you have seen, I trust you." She blushed prettily."But now, please, shut yourself up in the bathroom for twominutes. I want to get undressed, and then I'm going to sleep forthe rest of the night with mother. She's very upset and wantscompany."

Larose did as she requested and then even before the twominutes had elapsed, she knocked softly on the bathroom door."You can come out," she said, "and you can have another hour'ssleep. There's an alarm on this clock and I've set it for twentyminutes to five. Also, I've borrowed one of Monsieur Antoine'srazors for you. You look awful as you are." She gave him acharming smile. "Good-night, Mr. Larose, and pleasant dreams toyou."

The detective switched off the lights and lay down upon thebed. "Yes," he sighed sleepily, "I could very easily fall in lovewith that young woman, myself."

CHAPTER XVI. — THE MAJESTY OF DEATH

A LITTLE more than an hour later, the moment thealarm went off, Larose roused himself and rolled off the bed. Hewas still terribly sleepy and felt rather weak.

"But I'll be better when I've had another hot bath," he toldhimself, "and, at any rate, I can stick it out for one morenight. I've an exciting day before me, but when I can thinkclearly again I'll soon gather up all the threads." He glanced athimself in the mirror, and made a grimace, "Yes, I look prettyawful, as Ann said—like a man risen from the dead."

He felt much better after his bath, but when he had wellsoaped over his face preparatory to the much-needed shave, a mostannoying surprise awaited him, for there was no blade in therazor Ann had brought up.

"Whew!" he whistled disgustedly, "so I shall have to go onlooking pretty awful and in no respectable condition to meet thatassassin. But there's no help for it," and resigned to hiscontinued unkempt condition, he put the useless razor in hispocket.

He tidied his hair, however, with the monogrammed silverbrushes that were lying upon the dressing table.

"Ann's," he whispered, "and dainty, as she is." He sniffeddelicately at them. "Yes, they remind me of her." He sighedagain. "Young Harden's a lucky fellow."

Opening the door softly, everything seemed as silent as thegrave, and after pausing a moment to make sure no one was about,he tiptoed softly down the stairs and proceeded into the kitchen.It was not yet fully light, but a fire was burning there and itpartially illuminated the room.

He was well inside and almost up to the table before heperceived that a man was seated before the fire, and to hisconsternation, he realised in a lightning flash, that the man wasnot Croupin. He was a uniformed policeman and was meditativelysmoking a pipe.

It was too late for Larose to draw back, for the policemanlooked up sharply and then, as if suspicious of the detective'snoiseless approach, rose instantly to his feet and stoodregarding him from out of a pair of very shrewd blue eyes.

But Larose had been in many a tight corner before and if hewere now very much dismayed, the expression upon his face did notshow any signs of it.

"Good morning," he said most politely. He held up his hand."Hush, don't speak too loudly. Everybody's nerves are on edgeafter last night and if they hear a strange voice they may takeanother fright."

He walked up to the fireplace. "What! where's the kettle?" hewent on, "Not on yet! Darn that French cook. He never sympathiseswith anyone who wants a cup of tea, and he ought to have been upbefore now, getting me my breakfast. I told him five o'clock,"and picking up a kettle and filling it at the tap, he placed iton the fire.

All this time the policeman had not spoken a word, but Larosenoticed with some uneasiness that he had knocked the ashes out ofhis pipe and put the pipe in his pocket in a most business-likemanner.

"Who are you," he asked sharply, at length breaking hissilence, "and what are you doing here?"

Larose smiled. "Ah! of course, I forgot!" he said. "I'm fromthe Yard. I'm Larose, Gilbert Larose." He added carelessly, "Icalled on Inspector Dollard last week, in reference to thedisappearance of that Mr. Holden."

The policeman stood hesitating. He had heard right enoughabout Larose having called at the police station in Saxmundham,and if it were truly the Australian now, was prepared to be dulyrespectful, but no one had mentioned anything about Larose beingin the castle and, with the exciting experiences of the nightstill stirring in his mind, he was inclined to be suspicious.

And certainly, he thought, he had reason to be. The night hadbarely waned and tiptoeing into the kitchen, with all the actionsof a man not desirous of being heard, had come this unheraldedstranger, looking disreputable and unkempt and very unlike anyofficer associated with the Yard.

Then, at that moment, he heard more soft footfalls, andAntoine, the chef of the castle, in his turn came in softly.

"Monsieur Antoine!" exclaimed the detective angrily, beforethe chef had had time to utter even an "oh," but addressing himin the same guarded tone that he had used towards the policeman,"when will you understand that we Australians cannot do withoutour tea? You are late and I am pining for a cup now."

Croupin picked up his cue instantly. The detective evidentlywished it to be known who he was.

"I am very sorry, Meester Larose," he said, "but I oversleepmyself. You shall have ze tea at once."

"And why did you send me up a razor without any blade in it?"went on Larose irritably, proceeding to produce Croupin's emptyrazor from his pocket. "It was very careless of you. Look at myface. No, it's no good now. I shall leave it until to-night."

The policeman was instantly relieved of all his doubts, forthat the chef of the castle should be now addressing thisunshaved stranger as Mr. Larose was quite sufficient. He had beenpresent in the hall when the Frenchman had so dramaticallyrelated the story of the ringing of the bell and later, too, thatamiable gentleman had stood him a stiff whisky after the otherpoliceman had gone. So it must be quite all right.

He nodded most respectfully. "Pleased to meet you, sir," hesaid, "but I didn't know you were working with us."

"And I'm not," said Larose quickly. "I'm here on quite adifferent matter and his lordship, even, is not aware as yet thatI am in the castle." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I amhere upon that Holden case and another matter, and you mustplease not bring up my name at any time, to anyone." He spokemost emphatically. "You must understand I am here on secretwork."

"Quite all right, sir," said the policeman briskly. He smiled."I'll forget that I've seen you."

There was a moment's silence and then came anotherinterruption, and yet another person came into the kitchen and hetiptoed in, in exactly the same furtive manner as Larose and thechef had done. It was William.

The footman was looking very ill; for he had passed a wretchednight. During the first half of it he had lain like a dead man,but awakened roughly by James when the great bell had sounded, hehad been almost dragged from his bed, to take in with difficultyall that had happened downstairs in the hall. Then, retiring tohis bedroom again, he had been violently sick. The sickness hadin part cleared away his stupor, but it had left a splittingheadache behind, with all the feelings that he had experiencedtwice before when he had been so certain that the chef haddrugged him. So, although he could not explain how it had beendone, he was equally as positive that he had been druggedagain.

There had been no more sleep for him, and he had sat up,nursing an unreasoning and murderous anger, until the dawn. Then,all at once he had heard the chef leaving his room and, seizedwith a sudden resolution, he had hastily pulled on some clothesand followed after him, with the determination that at last hewould avenge himself, but with no clear purpose in his mind as tohow exactly he was going to do it.

His face was furious with anger as he glided into the kitchenand he licked his lips in preparation for the curses he was goingto hurl at the luckless chef.

Then, all in an instant, he was brought to a standstill, hislimbs became as if turned to stone, his jaw dropped and theexpression of rage upon his face gave way to one of great dismay.He had expected only Antoine, but to his amazement, he now saw apoliceman and worse still, the dreaded detective from ScotlandYard.

Instantly then, he began shifting his eyes rapidly from sideto side; he licked his lips anew and he breathed very hard. Hiswhole attitude was that of a guilty man, caught in the veryact.

Croupin suppressed a grin in which amusement and consternationwould have been blended and the policeman stared stolidly,recognising William as one of the footmen he had seen during thenight.

Larose spoke up at once. "Good morning," he said genially; "itwould seem we are all going to be early risers this morning."

William had now in part recovered himself and, mumblingsomething about not having been able to sleep, was about toshuffle away again, when Croupin called out quickly, "Have a cupof tea, William. Yes, come on now. Zere's plenty for you and youlook as if you wanted somezing. You look dam crook, old man."

The footman shook his head, but hesitated. He was cowed andshaky and for the moment clay in anybody's hands.

"Come on, sit down," went on the chef. "You must have a cup,"and the footman, incapable of any resistance, sank limply into achair.

Croupin passed over a cup of tea and then asked sharply, "Why,what's zat on your hand?"

The dazed footman at once held one forward, palm upward. "No,on ze uzzer one," said Croupin.

William complied again and Croupin laughed. "It is nuzzing. Iimagine I see a spider."

The footman was then left out of the conversation that ensuedand gulping down his tea as quickly as he could, he rose from hischair, and unhindered this time, shuffled from the room. A minuteor two afterwards the policeman got up to go, too.

"I must be off to that gallery again," he announced with asmile, "for if his lordship turns up and I'm not there, there'llbe the very devil to pay. I only came down to get a warm. It'shellish cold up there and that other footman has been cursing allthe time."

The sound of his heavy footsteps died away and then Laroseasked sharply—"Quick! tell me, did William go out of hisroom the night before last?"

"I do not know," replied Croupin very shamefacedly, "forunfortunately I slept all night." He spoke in an intense whisper."But there was a mark of blood upon his door handle in themorning and I was very worried about you. The mark was stickywhen I touched it, and it had not been there long. Tell me whathappened to you?"

Larose very briefly outlined everything that had taken placein the dungeons and Croupin listened with his face as white ashis own flour.

The detective hesitated a moment. "It looks like it," hereplied, and then he asked quickly: "Have you ever heard himlaugh?"

"No," said Croupin emphatically, "he never laughs." He lookedround apprehensively and put his lips close up to the detective'sear. "But there's something going on in the man's mind now andhe's getting dangerous. He's taken to following me everywhere,and didn't you notice his face when he came in just now? He wasmad with fury, and I believe he was going to attack me. He knowshe was doped again last night."

"Well, you look out," nodded Larose. He spoke thoughtfully."But I don't think he'll do anything until he's worked himself upagain. All the kick went out of him when he saw the policeman andme here." He frowned. "That was very awkward, for he may mentionabout it to Lord Thralldom."

"No, he won't," said Croupin at once. "He never speaks unlesshe's spoken to, and the lord never asks any questions of theservants."

A few minutes later, provided with another blanket and a watchthat he had borrowed from Croupin, the detective once againpassed through the panel in the chapel wall and descended thespiral stairway leading into the dungeons.

Now there are some days that, even in the most adventurouslives, stand out in memory above all others and that day whenLarose went down into the vaults for the last time, was one,every happening of which he was to remember all his life. It wasa day starting in dreadful disappointment, then proceeding to oneof dreadful horror, and finally culminating in a series ofstartling surprises that left him in a whirl of bewildering doubtand wonder.

To begin with, it was hours and hours before he could locatethe opening in the corridor from where he had seen the unknownman come out with the lantern.

And yet at first he had thought it would be so easy, for hetold himself he had only to stand by the door of the dungeonwhere he had been imprisoned and measuring the distance with hiseye, just walk forward until he came to a flagstone that wouldcertainly show signs of being different to all the others.

So, he stood by the dungeon door and called up to his sightthe whole scene of the two previous nights before.

"Here, I was standing," he said, "and about there was theshadow of the upraised flag. There, on the roof I saw the lightand there by the wall I saw the arm appear and place the lanternupon the floor."

It seemed to be so very simple, but when he came to put theidea to an actual test, it yielded no result at all. All theflagstones were of exactly the same size and no particular one ofthem seemed any different to the others.

They were all solidly embedded and gave forth no hollowsounds. They fitted pretty closely against one another andnowhere was there any sign that they did not all form onecontinuous pavement.

The rats were again a great annoyance, for as before, as longas he was upon his feet, they kept at a respectful distance, butthe moment he crouched down to flash his torch between thecrevices or lie flat, as he continually did to listen whilst hetapped upon the stones, they immediately ran over him and oneeven bit him through his sock.

For two hours and more he scrutinised the floor of thecorridor stone by stone, and his hopes went soaring when he foundthat between some of them he could just insert the thinnest bladeof his pocket knife, but they soon sank again when he invariablystruck hard mortar upon which the blade could make no impressionafter thrusting it down about half an inch.

Then he thought of another idea, and proceeding into thevaults, went behind the heap of stones and picked up the lanternthat he had seen there upon the first night when he had hadCroupin with him. Lifting up the glass to put a light to thewick, he was then instantly of opinion that the lantern had beenused since he had last handled it, for the wick had been trimmedthen and now it needed trimming again. He looked hard at it forquite a long time to make sure, with his face puckered in afrown.

"Then it must be William," he said slowly, and as if arguingwith himself, "for I can be sure from the lantern being in thisplace, that whoever rifled the coffins was making use of it andwe know it was William who rifled the coffins because of thosebracelets and the crucifix that he's got."

He made a sharp exclamation as he threw the light of his torchupon a spade that was lying near. "Ah! and there's blood on it!Of course, of course, as I thought, he was hitting at the ratswith it, that night."

He stood for a moment in deep thought and then with a shrug ofhis shoulders proceeded to light the lantern. He carried it intothe corridor and placed it where he was of opinion he had seenthe lantern put down. Then he went back to the dungeon door and,concentrating all his thoughts, endeavoured to determine if hehad got the distance right.

But he was not satisfied, and not once but many times, shiftedthe position of the lantern. At last it seemed that he waspleased.

"Well, at any rate I'm within a few feet of it," he said, "andif I have to crowbar up every stone, I'll find the openingnow."

Then he looked round in astonishment realising for the firsttime that the rats had all left him and there was not a singleone in sight.

"Great Scott!" he ejaculated. "Something's frightened them.Someone's coming," and he was in the very act of hastilyextinguishing the lantern when he stopped suddenly and a smiletook the place of his anxious look. "Of course, that's it," hewent on. "I understand everything now. That gentleman of thelantern is not too kind in his ways with them and directly it islit, they expect trouble and rush away. They know him and that'swhy they left me the other night. The first time, when he camedown empty handed and the second"—he nodded veryslowly—"when he returned with that dead man."

He dismissed the matter from his mind, and kneeling down,methodically, stone by stone, examined the joins between eachflag. But no success rewarded him. The blade of his knife wouldpenetrate down the interstices a little way in many places andindeed all along the sides and end of one big flag, but every oneof them was quite immovable and there was not the slightestindication that there had been any interference with them forhundreds of years.

He gave it up at last and went and fetched the crowbar."There's no help for it," he said, "but it's a pity for now thenext time he comes down he will see at once that someone's beenhere, and may take alarm and get out before I have time to layhands upon him."

He looked down to see where to begin operations. One flag, hehad noticed many times, appeared to be cracked slightly at onecorner and the crack was uneven and roughly triangular in shape.He lifted the crowbar and prepared to begin chipping away by theside of the crack.

Then with the first fall of the crowbar an amazing thinghappened. The whole cracked piece of the flag jumped out of itsbed, leaving a hole about an inch in depth, and to his thrilledexcitement, exposed to view a thick iron ring lying flush withthe bottom of the hole.

"Gee!" he exclaimed delightedly, "I've got it at last," anddropping upon his knees, he grabbed at the ring and bracinghimself for a great effort, prepared to heave with all hisstrength.

But he soon realised that very little strength would berequired for, after raising the flag a few inches, it suddenlyswung up of its own accord and looking down into the gapingopening that presented itself, he perceived that the stone wasbalanced by a large pendulum-like weight underneath. All alongthe edges of the stone had been cut a ledge fully two inches inwidth.

"No wonder I couldn't get my knife down any deeper," hebreathed excitedly, "for I was trying to cut into the solidstone."

He carefully examined the big flag to make sure it would notfall again, and then taking the crowbar with him, proceeded withan unpleasant thumping of his heart, down the flight of narrowsteps that he saw before him.

A descent of ten steps brought him to the bottom and he raisedhis lantern high above his head, to take in his surroundings.Before him and on one side he could see the enclosing walls, butin the other direction the light of the lantern was lost inshadows. The floor of the chamber was of beaten earth, but it wasnot of a pavement-like hardness. The air was dank and taintedwith a horrible, indescribable smell, but it was not so foul ashe had expected, and swinging the lantern round, he saw no signof the earth having been disturbed anywhere. As far as he couldsee, the whole place was empty.

He had soon examined the part of the chamber that ended nearthe bottom of the steps and then he moved forward in the otherdirection and soon, very soon, a sense other than sight, plainerand more plain with every step that he advanced, told him that hewas nearing his goal.

But he could still see no sign of any body anywhere, andproceeding about fifty yards, and when the rays of his lanternwere falling upon the farthest enclosing wall, there was stillnothing to indicate to his eyes that anyone had been there beforehim for hundreds and hundreds of years. Only a cold and chillingemptiness on every side with the earthen floor unbroken andundisturbed in all directions.

But still that other sense had become more and more insistentthat if he were not in the presence of the living, he wascertainly in that of the dead.

He moved up quickly towards the extreme end of the chamber,the thought now flashing through his mind that he might have tosearch for yet another hidden door. Then, when almost up to thewall itself, turning his head sideways, his eyes fell uponsomething that almost made his heart stand still.

He darted forward and held up the lantern. The top of the wellwas widely margined round with stonework and its coping was justlevel with the beaten earth. The well itself was about seven feetin diameter and, as far as he could see, its sides were stone-lined, too.

He approached close up and swung the lantern round, but it didnot throw its light down far enough and so placing it upon theground; he bent over the well and flashed his torch.

Then the torch almost dropped from his hand, and forgetting hehad been holding in his breath, he opened his mouth wide andgasped in horror. He had been quite prepared to expect what nowlay before him, but in all his life of the tracking down ofcrime, never had he met death in such a dreadful settingbefore.

Not four feet below him rested the body of a man. It lay uponits back, partly submerged in the clear water of the well. Itshead was raised as if upon a pillow and its calm white face wasserene in the peace and majesty of death. Its eyes were closed asif it were very tired, its forehead was fretted over with astraggling wisp of hair and a long, white hand, with a goldsignet ring upon one finger, was stretched against its side.

But it was its pillow that gave the horror to the scene, forit rested upon the body of another man, and this body wasballooned to such a size that there was no neck to its head, andits face was but the semblance of a face. One of its arms wasflung across the chest of the first man and the hand of the otherarm was just showing above the water, like a claw. This secondbody seemed also to be buoyed up in some way.

Larose took in everything in a lightning glance and thencompletely overcome for the moment and leaving his lantern whereit was, he darted back to the foot of the steps and drew in deepdraughts of the less tainted air there.

But it was only for a few seconds that he remained inactiveand then he was once again the cool, calculating detective inuredto all the gruesome happenings of his profession.

He picked up the long crowbar and returning to the well, layflat down upon the earth and stretched the crowbar down.

Very gently he levered against the side of the topmost body.It sank and rose and quivered as if it were upon springs, butthen suddenly it slipped into the deep water and, all in aninstant, had disappeared to the accompaniment of thousands andthousands of little bubbles.

Immediately then it was as if some great monster had beendisturbed in the depths of the well, for the surface of the waterwas broken violently and, one after another, strange, horrible-looking objects heaved themselves up into view.

The back of a man arched like a bow and with arms and legsspread out at dreadful angles; a black mass that had no shape atall and finally, a foot shod with a woman's shoe. The ankle abovethis shoe was grotesque and shapeless.

The detective, with his lips tightly compressed, pulled up thecrowbar and rising to his feet, sprang away from the side of thewell. Then happening to glance up, he saw far away a small, roundpatch of light. There was a chimney over the well, and it taperedup to some opening high upon the castle walls.

"And that is why the air down here is not so foul, away fromthis cursed well," he murmured. "I couldn't understand it."

He picked up the lantern and with one last shuddering glanceall round, made his way quickly across the chamber and up thesteps. He lowered the big flag-stone again into its bed, andreturning to the entrance to the vaults sat down and leantagainst the wall.

He saw that there was still plenty of oil remaining in thelantern and he left it burning.

For a long while then, he sat very still with his elbows uponhis knees and his chin upon his hands. There was no elation inthe expression upon his face, indeed he looked very worried.

"I am troubled, I am troubled," he whispered. "I am not readyand I am not certain yet. I must be very careful or I shall ruinmy whole career. If I strike now I may be only striking the air."He thought for a long while. "Yes, I am afraid and I do not knowwhat to do next."

He went on. "This is a terrible business, the most terrible Iever remember, and if William be the murderer, his actions are somotiveless and ununderstandable. Just the blind slaughter and thesheer lust of shedding blood! And how does it happen that, all inthe course of a few short weeks, he has become the possessor ofall the three secrets of these dungeons; the door leading downfrom the chapel, the secret of the chamber with the well, and thesecret of the passage leading under the moat?" He shook his head."No, no, it seems absolutely impossible."

He went on frowningly. "But it must be William, for everythingpoints to him. Croupin does not lie, and his evidence, ifindirect, is nevertheless almost overwhelming. The manydisappearances of the man from his bedroom during the night, thesimilarity of his walk to that of the slayer of the bailiff, thepossession of those gold bracelets, his unusual behaviour allalong, and finally, that blood upon the handle of the door."

He nodded his head again. "That's all right, but what evidencehave I against him that I could produce in a court of law?Practically none. Only the evidence of Croupin that he saw thosebracelets in the man's trunk, and that evidence, too, obtained ina most questionable way. Besides, Croupin himself is a fugitivefrom his own country and I could not expect him to go into thewitness-box. Also, that footman has been badly frightened lately,and it is quite on the cards that he has got rid of thosebrackets, so that no evidence may really be forthcoming againsthim. Then—finger-prints? No, I don't think so. I lookedparticularly at his hands this morning and they were smooth andwell-kept and wholly unlike those of a man who has been doingthis rough work in the vaults, so he undoubtedly wearsgloves."

His thoughts ran on. "Then the butcher, what about him? Itmight possibly be he, after all, who is the assassin, for fromhis early and long association with Thralldom, he is far morelikely than William, to have acquired the secrets of thesepassages." He shook his head. "I can do nothing there, however,until I learn if he was away from home the night beforelast."

He sat on for a long while. "And there are other things I donot understand," he murmured, "for I have thoughts, yes, I havethoughts——" But his voice trailed away into silenceand he stared and stared into the shadows cast by thelantern.

Presently he looked at the watch Croupin had lent him and atonce yawned sleepily, and leant back with what comfort he could,against the hard wall.

"Really, I could drop off to sleep again," he whispered. "I amstill dreadfully tired." And drop off he did, for in a couple ofminutes at most, he was snoring deeply.

An hour passed—two—and he was still asleep. Thelantern burned low, waved and flickered and finally went out.

The detective's sleep was deep and long but at last he awokewith a sharp cry, for a rat was biting at his hand. He sprang upwith a savage imprecation and finding he was in total darkness,flashed his torch in bewilderment, not realising for the momentwhat had happened.

Then he ruefully regarded the lantern and touching it with hishands, found it was quite cold. He shook it. It was empty.

"Now, that's awkward," he whistled, "for when the party whohas been using it comes down, the first thing he'll want to dowill be to light it. He'll find it empty and know at once thatsomeone else has been here."

For a few moments he could not locate them and then herealised that they came from behind that part of the wall againstwhich he had been leaning when he had fallen asleep. They grewlouder and were unmistakably now the footsteps of someone who wasapproaching the wall.

He darted into the nearest dungeon and stood with his headleaning out into the corridor. A long, thin streak of lightappeared through the cracks of the wall.

"At last! at last!" he whispered excitedly. "Blind chance isplaying into my hands!" and he snatched out his pistol and heldit ready.

Then suddenly the wall opened and after a moment's hesitationa man stepped cautiously into the corridor and swung a lanternhigh above his head. In the other hand, he was holding a largerevolver. The man was tall and thin and his cap was pulled downover his forehead.

He stepped out into the corridor and Jones perceiving hisapproach, instantly covered him with the revolver.

"Don't shoot, please, Mr. Jones," he exclaimed quickly. "Thisis the only suit I have."

The great investigator regarded him intently for a moment andthen pocketed the revolver. There was no expression of surpriseupon his face.

"Oh! it's you again, is it?" he remarked coldly. "We arealways meeting one another, it seems." He nodded significantly."I was aware no one had heard of you for four days and I quitethought Rawlings had got you. I am agreeably surprised."

"Very simple," was the reply. "I found a movable stone in oneof the chambers under the Priory. It opened into a passage, and Ifollowed the passage here."

"Very simple, again," said Jones. "I followed a trail of bloodby the plantation and it led me there. There was a mark of bloodalso upon the stone. Without doubt Rawlings had been upon the warpath again." He looked rather annoyed. "I found the opening justafter lunch to-day, but had to return to Minsmere to borrow alantern, otherwise"—he spoke carelessly—"the wholebusiness would not have taken me half an hour." He lookedintently at the detective. "But how do you come to be here?"

"I have been keeping watch in these dungeons," replied Larose,"from the night following the day upon which I last saw you."

"Then Lord Thralldom himself has commissioned you," remarkedJones. "I thought his lordship——"

"Lord Thralldom knows nothing about it," interrupted Larosequickly. He hesitated a moment. "I am here with the connivance ofsomeone in the castle."

"Someone in the castle, and not Lord Thralldom!" exclaimedJones. He looked incredulous. "Whom?"

"Oh! that's it, is it?" commented Jones frowningly and as ifhe did not quite approve. "Then you'd better be careful of thecompany you keep for, unless I am very much mistaken, one of thefootmen there—I gather in the village that he goes underthe name of William—is an escaped convict, from theBroadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum. I am sure I recognisehim."

The detective was too dumbfounded to speak. He felt, asCroupin has once expressed it, as if a bomb were bursting in hisbrain.

"Yes," went on Jones angrily, "and I was grossly insulted thismorning. I called to speak to Lord Thralldom and sent in my card,but he refused to see me and I was informed to that effect in anoffensive message by the mouth of the same footman." He tossedhis head contemptuously. "I was calling, too, to do LordThralldom a service for last night I came upon a man killing hissheep and was intending to put his lordship in the way ofapprehending the thief."

"No, I don't think so," replied Jones calmly. "Just anordinary case of larceny. The fellow was killing the animals andtaking the carcases away and, from the expeditious manner inwhich he cut their throats, I should say he was a butcher bytrade. He was driving a Ford touring car."

Surprise upon surprise was avalanching itself upon thebewildered detective. "What was he like?" he said hoarsely.

"I really can't say," was the reply, "except that he was talland gaunt. I never saw his face. I did not interfere, because Iwas not desirous of any publicity. However, I took the number ofhis car although that may be of no help for the plates wereobviously substitutes. Apparently they had only just been screwedon, for the oil on the nuts was clean."

"Oh! yes," replied Jones carelessly, "and I watched all theproceedings from start to finish. It happened in this way," hewent on. "It was getting on for eleven and I was lying upon thewatch, behind some oak trees there, when he drove up and parkedhis car. I should say, too, it was not his first visit to thespot, firstly, because of the oil marks upon the ground that Ihad noticed before he arrived, and secondly, because there was nohesitation in the manner in which he backed his car into thedeepest shadows. I was interested, naturally, but I knew it wasnot Rawlings, for he has never driven a car and moreover hatesthe things." He regarded Larose intently. "You knew that, ofcourse?"

"Yes," nodded Larose, "he was knocked down by one in the earlydays of motoring and never forgave it."

"Well," continued Jones, "I soon saw what the fellow was upto. There were some sheep camping near and he was in among themand had grabbed two before any of them had had time to get up.Then he cut their throats, jumped upon them, let them bleed for alittle while, and had bundled them in the back of the car and wasdriving off, all in less than six or seven minutes. A very neatjob, I can tell you."

Jones smiled. "Ah! I was digressing, I see," he said. "Well,about that man, if I am right and I almost am positive about it,he is Carl Heidelburg who escaped from Broadmoor about threeyears ago. He is a homicidal lunatic, and he killed his employer,Sir Rainton Baynes, the great architect, just because the latterhad had occasion mildly to reprimand him. He was condemned todeath by Judge Bambury at the Leeds Assizes, but he was held tobe insane and confined in Broadmoor. He escaped from there,however, about six months later and the relatives of thearchitect were so incensed firstly because he had not beenhanged, and secondly because he had escaped, that they offered areward of £2,000 for his capture. The reward, I understand,still holds good, but I shall not be able to move in the matteruntil I get him identified by a friend of mine, the chief warderof the asylum who at the present moment is in the South ofFrance. I have, however, communicated with the gentleman, and heis now on his way home. I have said nothing to the officialpolice because the reward is worth having and I want to be sureof it for myself." He looked hard at the detective. "But that isdigressing again. Now what are you watching here for?"

"For a homicidal lunatic," replied Larose dryly, "who hascommitted several murders and who, I know for certain, isfrequenting these dungeons."

The frown upon the face of the great investigator darkened."Mr. Larose," he said coldly, "you are a very obstinate man, andin spite of the overwhelming evidence I have produced thatRawlings is still alive, you yet refuse to credit anything I havesaid and when Rawlings is before us in the flesh, it will be oneof the most humiliating moments of your life."

The detective nodded. "Yes," he replied quietly, "but it isnot I who am his guardian." He stretched out his hand. "Here,give me that lantern, and you come with me."

Jones handed over the lantern without a word and followedafter the detective. His expression was that of a man who wasendeavouring to mask a certain feeling of uneasiness under one ofcontemptuous disdain.

With a face of stone, he saw Larose put down the lantern andkneel in the empty corridor. As cold as ice, he watched him liftup the big flag and it was only when he bent over the gapingopening and a whiff of the tainted air was wafted up to him frombelow, that he allowed his features to give any indication of thereal state of his mind.

Larose nodded and leading the way down the steps, guided himacross the earth floor chamber up to the side of the well. Thenthey both knelt down and the detective flashed his torch.

"That, I think, is the bailiff," he whispered. "See, thepyjamas showing, where the jacket has burst."

The great investigator was breathing hard. He frowned andscowled and appeared to be most annoyed that he should have beenproved to be in the wrong.

In a few moments, however, his interest in what lay before himoverwhelmed all other feelings, and in perfect calmness and asunconcerned as if he were only regarding objects under a glasscase, he then proceeded to enunciate his opinions.

"Yes, that is Rawlings," he agreed. "He always wore a double-breasted jacket. And that's the inn-keeper's hand—his wifetold me he had lost the tip of one forefinger. But do you knowwho all the others are? Who's the woman there?"

Then Larose had almost to drag him away. The detective was notinclined for any prolonged conversation over the foul air of thewell and it was not until they were once more in the corridor andthe flag had been let down, that he answered the question.

"But there was a body there when I looked this morning," headded, "and I do not know whose it can be. It was the last onethrown in and was in a perfect state of preservation. It had abrown suit on; it had dark hair and——"

"An oval face," supplemented Jones sharply, "an aquiline nose,a small mouth, long, shapely hands and a gold signet ring."

"Martin Fenner," replied Jones, "an associate of the gang thatI was instrumental in laying by the heels last night, and theindividual that I have mentioned to you I have encounteredseveral times upon the marshes." He snapped his fingers together."I have been wondering all along why he was not in theircompany." He laid his hand upon the detective's arm. "Now let ussit down somewhere. You must have a lot to tell me."

And certainly Larose had a lot to tell him, but he did notdisclose everything. He resolutely declined to name his associatein the castle, and he made no mention of Ann Devenham or youngHarden, also he said nothing about the footman having beendrugged.

Naughton Jones listened intently with his eyes never for onemoment straying from the detective's face. Towards the end of therecital, he was frowning hard.

"Well," he said at last, "I must ask you to oblige me in oneway. I have been more open with you than you have been with meand I deserve some consideration." He rapped out quickly as if hewere giving an order. "I want no interference with that footmanfor forty-eight hours. He is my bird and I want to bring himdown. I want to claim that reward."

"Of course, I'm very sorry to steal any of your thunder,"interrupted Jones quickly, "but as you admitted that you had nodirect evidence against the man, it was practically only mydisclosure to you of his being a homicidal lunatic that warrantsyou making any arrest. You would not have dared to do it if I hadnot furnished you with that information."

Larose hesitated. "But he is dangerous," he said, "and towait, may endanger more lives."

"Not at all," said Jones quickly, "for we will block up thatopening in the Priory and he won't possibly be able to getout."

"All right," said the detective after a moment, "until the dayafter to-morrow then, and you are to do nothing without advisingme. I will come up with you when he is apprehended." He spokebriskly. "Now let me have some of the oil out of your lantern.I've emptied all mine and it won't do for anyone to see that ithas been interfered with."

They had just effected the exchange of the oil when suddenly,they both, as in one movement, jerked up their heads and staredopen-mouthed at each other. They had heard a noise behind thewall. "Quick," exclaimed Larose, "someone's coming. Put out thelight and into this dungeon, quick."

The lantern was instantly extinguished and they sprang back inthe darkness. The noises came nearer and then, as once before,the detective saw a streak of light appear on the wall.

The door opened and, following upon some hoarse whisperings,three men emerged into the corridor. Two of them were in ordinaryclothes but the third was in the uniform of an inspector ofpolice and Larose recognised Inspector Ferguson, ofHalesworth.

Naughton Jones was quite calm and unflurried. "They'repolice," he said quietly in the detective's ear. "Really, thelocals here are more efficient than I thought," and he proceededat once to step into the corridor, into the light of the lanternthey were holding up.

"That's him," cried one of the plain-clothes men quickly, andhe sprang forward and seized Jones by the arm. "Who are you now,and what are you after here?" he asked sharply.

But the name apparently struck no chord of memory in the man'smind, for he interrupted brusquely. "Well, whoever you are, we'resuspicious about you and we've been watching you for two days. Wewant to know——"

"It's all right, he's a colleague of mine," called out Larose,stepping into the corridor, too. He laughed merrily. "Goodafternoon, Inspector. How do you do?"

The Inspector gave a cry of glad surprise. "Good heavens! Whata relief!" he exclaimed. "I've been very anxious about you andwas sure something bad had happened. I sent two men out and theygot upon the track of the gentleman and saw where he went inthrough the wall of the Priory. One came and fetched meand"—he took off his cap and wiped his forehead—"hereI am."

The rather mortified Naughton Jones was introduced and partialexplanations followed. Then the Inspector took Larose aside.

"Ridge has been out for two nights, since you've beenmissing," he whispered, "but he managed to dodge us bothtimes"—his voice was hoarse in itsimpressiveness—"and this morning one of my men paid asecret visit to his garage and saw blood upon the floor of histourer. Lots of it."

"Yes, I know," whispered back Larose, "and I'll put you wiseabout him later on when my friend here isn't present. Turnbull'sonly been stealing sheep."

They chatted together for a few minutes and then, upon theInspector suggesting that, as he and his men were there and mightnever get another chance, they should see something of thedungeons, Naughton Jones, taking charge of the lantern, at onceproceeded to act as guide and conductor, and from hiscondescending manner it might almost have been assumed that hehimself was the lord of the castle.

Then they all filed away along the passage under the moat, andduring their uncomfortable journey there, for the passage wasbarely five feet in height, Larose considered with many a pangfor what dreadful tragedies it had been so recentlyresponsible.

Arriving at the other end among the ruined walls of thePriory, for a good ten minutes they all worked hard, piling upgreat slabs of stone where the door opened, thereby rendering itquite impossible for one person, by himself, to clear theentrance. Then, promising the Inspector that he would look him upthe following morning, Larose and Naughton Jones parted from himand his men and returned to the inn upon the Haven.

"I am putting up there, myself, now," the great man announced,"for one reason because it is imperative I should be in closeproximity to the telephone during the next forty-eight hours, andfor another, because the people where I lodge are becoming tooinquisitive about me. They don't understand my being out so lateat night and I am sure they have been talking to the localpoliceman about it. At any rate, I have encountered the fellowupon more occasions than I can believe to be mere coincidences,and also he eyes me in a manner that I consider impertinent.Indeed, I am almost inclined to report him to headquarters."

Upon arriving at the inn, Larose asked the landlady to ring upthe castle and have a message taken to Ann that a Mrs. Smith waswanting to speak to her. The girl was at the other end veryquickly, and then the detective spoke to her himself.

In carefully guarded language, he asked her to inform MonsieurAntoine that he had left the castle, but would the chef pleasemeet him upon the beach the following afternoon. Also, hereminded her of her promise to on no account go down into thedungeons.

Then receiving her emphatic assurance that she would do as hebade her, he rang off, and after a good meal, retired to bed. Heresolutely refused to allow his thoughts to wander, and makinghis mind a blank, soon dropped off to sleep.

CHAPTER XVII. — THE MASTER MINDS

THE following day it was almost as if thedetective were a gentleman of leisure. He rose late, he tookplenty of time over his breakfast and then, for an hour and more,he sat smoking upon the beach. He saw nothing of Naughton Jonesand was glad to learn from the landlord that the latter had beenout and about before seven, and was not likely to be in forlunch. The landlord also informed him that Jones had been calledto the telephone before six.

Towards eleven o'clock the detective took out his car anddrove over to Halesworth to keep his appointment with theInspector there, driving very slowly, however, and stopping manytimes to admire the views.

He was back again at the inn in time for lunch and then,towards three o'clock, took up his position under the cliffsabout half a mile away, at the spot he had appointed for arendezvous with Raphael Croupin.

The lively Frenchman arrived on time and was prepared for athousand excited questionings, but Larose cut him short by askingto be first informed as to all that had been happening at thecastle since their last meeting.

"Oh! it has been like a hive of bees ever since," exclaimedCroupin with great animation, "and policemen and detectives havebeen arriving all the time to talk with the lord and examine howthose wretches got in. A tremendous fuss is being made, and to-day the Chief Constable himself arrived and stayed to lunch."

"Knocked up!" echoed Croupin sarcastically, "why, it's takenten years off his age! He is full of energy and like a raginglion. Yesterday, he was on the go all day long, and ordering thepolicemen about as if they were his private servants. James says,too, that at lunch just now he was insisting to the ChiefConstable that the police force at Saxmundham must be doubled andthat any attempt upon his pictures should be made a hangingmatter. He's going to speak about it in the House of Lords."

He grinned. "Poor old James and the butler are in for a badtime. They are to sleep on mattresses now in the picture gallery,with loaded shot-guns as well as pistols by their sides. James isterrified because he is sure there is something wrong with theshot-gun the lord has given him and that it will go off withoutanyone touching the trigger. Both the footmen, and the butler,too, are to carry their pistols about with them, night and daynow."

Croupin nodded significantly. "He is stunned and cowed and hasgot all the fight knocked out of him. He avoids the policemen asmuch as he can and slinks out of our hall whenever any of themcome in." He looked up excitedly to Larose. "But tell me all thathas happened to you?"

Then with widely dilated pupils and with many "Ohs" and "Ahs"Croupin listened to the detective's tale. Larose kept nothingback but related in detail everything that had happened.

"So, Meester Jones will take all the glory from you,"exclaimed the Frenchman disgustedly, when the recital was ended,"and this Carl Heidelburg will be actually in the hands of thepolice before you can tell what you know"—he looked verysorrowful—"and we have both run such risks."

"Yes," nodded Larose, "we have both run such risks." Croupinwent on in great dejection. "This Jones is spoiling everything,for when they have arrested William, I do not see even then, howyou can bring your charge against him. You are not ready, for youcannot prove yet that it is William." He threw out his hands. "Weknow it, but there is no actual proof. What can you do?"

Larose shook his head. "I am very troubled, Monsieur," hesaid, "very troubled indeed."

They talked on for an hour and more and then Croupin rose upto return to the castle.

"And it may be good-bye," he said sadly, "for any moment I maybe going now. When they learn who William is, the police maystart making enquiries about all of us servants andthen"—he laughed impudently—"they will find out thatmy testimonials were forged."

"Tut! tut!" frowned the detective, "and it was only yesterdaythat Mr. Jones was warning me to beware of what company I kept."He smiled. "Still I am most grateful to you, Monsieur Croupin,and I wish I could repay you in some way."

"Tut! tut!" mimicked Croupin, "it has been a great adventureto me and you have repaid me many times." He bowed. "You haverepaid me by your trust in me, in me Raphael Croupin, the wickedthief." He laughed merrily. "How strange life is! Six weeks ago Icame here to steal the Rubens from the lord and to-day, he hasgiven me £50 because I rang the big bell to prevent otherstaking it."

"But seriously," said Larose, "I am anxious about you.Naughton Jones may be spiteful because he knows you always makefun of him, and it is quite likely he will have told the policethat he met you here the other day."

Croupin shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'll risk it, anyhow, alittle longer, for I must see what happens to-morrow." He laughedslyly. "You are very thoughtful to-day, Meester Larose, and youare a great man and I should never be surprised if at the lastmoment you did not manage somehow to trump this Jones's ace!" andwaving his hand in good-bye, he strolled away humming a livelytime.

Larose sat on for a long while after Croupin had left him andnever once did it seem that he took his eyes off the sea. Indeed,from his concentration it might almost have been thought that hewas expecting to see something rise up out of the waves. At last,however, he looked at his watch and with a troubled sigh rose upand walked back to the inn. He chatted to the landlord for a fewminutes and then went into the dining-room for the eveningmeal.

He sat down to the table by himself, but almost immediatelyNaughton Jones arrived and took the chair opposite to him. Thegreat man was looking very pleased with himself.

"I have had a busy and interesting day," he said, "and haveput in quite a lot of good work. I had another look at thatfootman, too, and am satisfied he is the man I want."

"What!" exclaimed Larose, aroused to interest at once. "You'vebeen up to the castle!"

"Certainly!" smiled Jones. "Why not? I induced the villagegrocer to take me up with him in his van, when he was deliveringstores there this morning. I made out I had an overwhelmingdesire for a close up view of the castle and I sat inside at theback, well away among the tea and sugar and the pots of jam. Ihad a pair of field glasses with me and was very entertained. Isaw Lord Thralldom himself. He was busy outside the castle doorsuperintending the unpacking of a big dynamo that I understand isgoing to be installed for the electrocution of anyone who infuture attempts to raid his paintings. He was strutting aboutlike an old turkey-cock and giving orders all round. He lookedvery active and full of life."

"He certainly is," went on Jones, "but of course it wasWilliam who interested me most, and I had him under my glassesfor quite a long time, not five yards away. Every line of hisface showed up and he looked careworn and tired, I thought. Buthe was different to-day to the last time I saw him, for then hehad all the appearance of a man who had been taking drugs."

"Oh! dear me no," laughed Jones. "I was crouching among thetreacle tins, and indeed was being so careful to make certainthat I should not be seen that I trod upon a few of them." Hepassed his hand down one leg of his trousers and looked annoyed."I believe I have some of the syrup adhering to me now."

The detective made no comment. He was in no mood forconversation, and was wishing Jones would let him eat his meal inpeace, but Jones was not to be denied and ambled on.

"Hark! hear those church bells!" he exclaimed. "There must bea service on to-night. Very pretty, but very sad," he went onmusingly. "Yes, there is always a sadness in church bells, forthey remind us how uncertain is our life here. They chill,somehow, those feelings of hope and yearning that we all have forlength of days and they strike some chord of sentiment in us thatis most unreasonable and peculiar. Why, I have known men whocould cut your throat for half a note, stand listening to themwith their eyes filled with tears."

The night was cold and with the remains of the meal clearedaway, the two remained on sitting before the fire. Naughton Joneswas lively and talkative, but the detective was very quiet andspoke as little as he could. He wanted to think.

Presently Jones stopped to light his pipe, and the detectivemaking no attempt to carry on the conversation, contented himselfwith staring into the fire.

Then Jones rubbed his hands together and smiled happily."Well, to-morrow," he said, "should be a great day in both ourlives, for I am going to earn £2,000 and you, if you takeyour courage in your hands"—he spoke in an easy andconversational tone—"are going to arrest LordThralldom."

A long silence followed and even, it seemed the fire ceased tocrackle and the embers ceased to burn. For a few moments it mightalmost have been as if Larose had not heard, for he made nomovement and did not withdraw his eyes from the fire. Then heturned his head slowly and regarded Jones with an intentstare.

"Yes," went on the latter and now himself looking in the fire,"you have played a lone hand and deserve all the credit that willaccrue." He shook his head. "But your difficulties are not allover yet, for I doubt if you will find it easy to induce anybodyto sign the warrant for his lordship's arrest."

Still Larose did not speak. His face was like a mask and hecontinued to stare stonily at his companion. The greatinvestigator looked back at him again, and now smiled an amusedsmile.

"Yes, you are naturally surprised," he said, "but since ourlittle talk in the vaults yesterday, I have thought overeverything and can come to no other conclusion but that you aresure now it is Lord Thralldom himself who is this unknownassassin."

He bent forward and went on very quietly. "You see, Mr.Larose, with no intention at all to flatter you, our two brainswere cast in very similar moulds and in consequence I am able tofollow the workings of your mind almost as easily as I can followthe workings of my own."

He raised one long forefinger to emphasise what he was goingto say. "Now, your description of what took place that night whenyou were imprisoned in the dungeons was so graphic that when Icame to go over it afterwards, it was almost as if I had beenthere myself, and I was soon analysing everything in exactly thesame manner that I was sure you had done. Then your doubts as tothe footman being the actual assassin became my doubts, and I wassoon hot upon the other trail. Of course," he added quickly, "itmay be that you unconsciously stressed upon the points that weretroubling you, but I was soon, very soon, like you, of theopinion that there had been two visitors to the dungeons thatnight; first Lord Thralldom and then this Carl Heidelburg." Heshrugged his shoulders. "Like you, I fought against the idea, butin the end, as with you again, it triumphed over me."

Larose spoke at last. "You are a great Master, Mr. Jones," hesaid quietly, "and what I obtain with infinite labour, comes toyou by intuition alone."

Jones patted him smilingly upon the arm. "A very prettycompliment, sir," he said warmly, "very pretty indeed." Helaughed. "But here, at all events, you yourself have helped memost materially to form my ideas. You told me, and although youmay not have realised it, you repeated it twice, so that I couldsee what was in your mind, that when you were shut in the dungeonthat night, the light that first showed under the door was slowand wavering, but the second time, it came and went in quickjerks. That suggested to me two different persons at thedifferent times. One, tired and exhausted by the labour ofcarrying a corpse for a long way, and the other vigorous andfresh for his warfare upon the rats. I was the more imbued withthis idea because one man had been silent and the other hadaccompanied his activities with laughter and shouts." He lookedenquiringly at Larose. "Now, those were your thoughts, too, werethey not?"

The detective nodded. "And they passed along the corridorquite differently," he said. "One shuffled and the otherran."

"Then the idea is preposterous," went on Jones frowning, "thatany comparative newcomer to the castle, such as this Heidelburgis, could possibly have discovered those steps leading down underthe corridor to that well. No one would have lighted upon them bychance in a thousand years, and the man who has been using themmust either have been actually shown where the particular flag isand how it lifts up, or else—he must have seen the flagupraised, as you did."

He paused a moment and then nodded emphatically. "So when Ihad dismissed the idea that this footman was the assassin, mymind at once then turned to the owner of the castle for he, ofall people, I told myself, would most likely be in possession ofits secrets." He raised his voice stridently. "Lord Thralldomanswers so well, too, to the temperament and disposition of thevery man we want. Not only is he eccentric, to the point ofinsanity, but we have with him the clear outstanding motive forthese murders. He is obsessed with the idea that all trespassersupon the Thralldom lands are after his paintings and it is thecommon talk of the villages, that at night he abrogates tohimself the duty of protecting the castle." He looked as shockedas if some dreadful sacrilege had been committed. "Why! I myselfwas fired upon one night, as I have told you, and I am convincednow that the bullet came from the direction of the castle." Henodded emphatically. "Yes, there can be no doubt at all. LordThralldom is the man you want."

Larose sat up stiffly in his chair. "I agree to a very greatextent with what you say, Mr. Jones," he said slowly, "but still,with all my suspicions about Lord Thralldom it is not yet clearto me that I can definitely discard the idea that this footman isthe murderer."

"Oh! oh!" scoffed Jones, "then you think he first found thesecret door in the chapel, then that leading down under the moatand then, by some miraculous chance he came to know what wasunder the flag-stone in the corridor and how it was lifted up!"He laughed mockingly. "Then, stimulated by these discoveries andfinding all these conveniences ready to his hand, the idea cameto him suddenly that he would embark upon a course of murder. Doyou really think that?"

Larose laughed back. "Hardly," he replied, "but what istroubling me is this. We know now without any doubt that thisfootman is insane and already a murderer, and unhappily for mypeace of mind, under certain not wholly improbable circumstances,everything can still suggest to us that he and not Lord Thralldommay be the assassin we are looking for."

"No," said Jones sharply, "we can rub Heidelburg out once andfor all, firstly because there is no motive in his case forcommitting the murders, and secondly because he could never havefound those passages and that well."

"But we need not necessarily expect to find a motive," arguedLarose, "for a man of insane mind surely does not have a motivefor all he does." He smiled. "Now what motive can you suggestthat the footman had to compel him to go battering at those ratswith the spade?"

Jones made no answer, and the detective went on, "Then is itnot possible that the footman learnt all about those passagesfrom some book or plan of the castle that is in the possession ofLord Thralldom? Remember, you have told me that the man is anarchitect by profession, and I learnt from Lord Thralldom he hadbeen for six months in the service of Professor Dangerton, thewell-known archaeologist. So all his training would assist him inmaking good in any searching he was undertaking."

"But if any such book or plan existed," scowled Jones, "hislordship would see to it that no one could get hold of it."

"Still, the footman has had every opportunity," said Larose,"and constantly in attendance upon Lord Thralldom when the latterhas been asleep or ill, he may easily have taken his keys andopened drawers and desks everywhere." He spoke most impressively."The man must have got a hint from somewhere, to have been ableto find that opening in the chapel wall and remember, he is mostcunning and capable or he would never have escaped from Broadmoorin the way that you told me he did. I don't forget you dwelt uponhow his architectural knowledge had helped him there?"

Jones looked very disgusted. "Then you have gone back on thefirst opinion you held," he said, "that two men came down intothe dungeons that night. You think now that there was onlyone?"

Larose hesitated. "I don't know what to think," he replied. "Iwas dazed and drunkenly sleepy then, and I've no idea how long atime elapsed between the passing of the two lights before mydoor. The tired man may have rested and become refreshed enoughto go again after those rats." He spoke most respectfully. "Yousee, Mr. Jones, I am putting everything before you to get youradvice. The matter is vital to me, for if I dare to act upon myown, as I want to, and intimidate the people here into issuing awarrant for the arrest of Lord Thralldom, and then it turns out Ihave made a mistake"—he shook his head gloomily—"thenI am disgraced and ruined for ever."

"I think you have a clear case," said Jones firmly, "and Ishall be disappointed in you if you do not strike and strikequickly."

The detective sighed. "Certainly, so many things came into mymind," he said, "directly my suspicions were turned upon LordThralldom. For one thing, I went over all you had told me aboutthose different people who were positive they had seen thebailiff upon the Thralldom lands at night, many days after I wascertain he had been dead, and I know they must have seen someonewho was not unlike the dead man in appearance. Then I thought ofLord Thralldom at once, for although much taller than Rawlings,he stoops a lot and that would take off the height. Also Iargued, who would habitually take walks about Thralldom exceptone connected in some way with the estate, and again, whoever thenightly prowler was, he evidently did not want his identitydisclosed or he would have replied to the hails of those whoaccosted him."

"Exactly," commented Jones, "and that was one reason why I wasso certain it was Rawlings. The prowler did not want to berecognised."

"Then, there was another thing," went on Larose. "I had alwayswondered why Lord Thralldom with all his desire to prevent theapproach of strangers to the castle, had never kept any dogs.That would surely, I thought, have been the first thing tosuggest itself to anyone, for savage dogs would not only havegiven an unhealthy reputation to the Thralldom lands, but wouldalso have been invaluable in giving warning at night. But no,there were no dogs attached to the castle and not only that, butother folks on outlying farms could not keep them because of thepoison baits that had been strewn about." He nodded solemnly. "Itwas just as if someone were not wanting his excursions anywhereupon the Thralldom lands to be heralded by the barking ofdogs."

"The poisoning began about two months ago," supplementedJones, "towards the end of July. Joe Gregorsen, a Westletonfarmer, lost a fox terrier on the night of Tuesday, August thefirst."

"And Rita Ethelton and Augustus Holden were killed on the13th," said Larose. "You must understand, Mr. Jones," he went onquickly, "one great doubt I still have, is whether an infirm oldman such as Lord Thralldom appears to be, can possibly possessthe necessary physical strength to carry out these murders. I cannever put away the certainty that the man who attacked me thatnight was no weakling. On the contrary, he had greatstrength."

"Pooh!" exclaimed Jones, "that's nothing, for in moments ofgreat excitement all his virility might have come back. Theaffection he now suffers from is, I gather, purely of nervousorigin, and there are cases recorded in medical annals, wherepersons so afflicted have accomplished feats of superhumanstrength, almost upon their very death-beds."

"Well," said Larose, "I have certainly noticed in myinterviews with him, that the moment his anger is roused, hebecomes a different man. He sits up erectly or he strides aboutthe room and there is no sign of weakness about him then, exceptthat he breathes very heavily." He nodded. "And the man whoattacked me was breathing exactly as I have heard Lord Thralldombreathe, and exactly as the man was breathing that night as hepassed the dungeon door, labouring under the burden of the deadman."

A short silence followed, and then Jones said briskly. "Well,I repeat, in my opinion, you have a clear case and I think youare fully justified in effecting his arrest."

"But it is not clear," persisted Larose, "for I have no directevidence to present to a court of law."

Naughton Jones looked very angry. "You have found the bodiesof five murdered people," he said sternly, "in a place that LordThralldom has told you is only accessible to him. Therefore, anexplanation is demanded from him as to how they got there. Goodgracious!" he went on, "suppose you found a dead body in thecellar of a man's house, when that man was known to have a grudgeagainst the person dead, would you not take him in charge atonce, if only on suspicion? Well, treat Lord Thralldom as youwould an ordinary person and don't let the heads take all thecredit from you." He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously."That's all the advice I shall give you."

The detective rose up from his chair. "Well, I'm off to bed,now," he said, "and I shall think it over. At any rate I shall goup and see Lord Thralldom to-morrow morning, and be guided bywhat I learn then. Good night."

CHAPTER XVIII. — LAROSE PREPARES TO STRIKE

THE following morning, as if exhausted with allthe excitements of the past forty eight hours, Lord Thralldombreakfasted in bed. During the course of the meal, he received amessage through the extension telephone by his bedside thatLarose would be much obliged if he would kindly grant him aninterview that morning, and frowning in some annoyance, he hadreplied that the detective could come up at half-past ten.

He finished his breakfast and then leisurely bathing anddressing, took himself into a small room adjoining his bedroom, asort of study and business room, and proceeded to go through themorning newspapers.

But he was very thoughtful about something, and evidently notmuch interested in the news, for he frowned many times, lookedout of the window very often, and muttered a lot to himself.Finally, he snapped his fingers together as if he had at lastcome to some decision and pressed the bell upon the desk. Jamesat once appeared.

"Tell Miss Devenham that I wish to speak to her," he said, andwhen the footman was leaving the room, he added—"I expectthat man again from Scotland Yard, at half-past ten. Show him uphere at once when he arrives and then, when he has been here fiveminutes, one of you come in and say I am wanted by theelectricians. You understand, I do not wish him to take up mytime."

Ann appeared very shortly. She looked bright and smiling andvery happy. She had had a letter from John Harden that morning,saying that he had commenced his annual three weeks' holiday andwould be ringing her up on the morrow to know where they couldmeet. She had read the letter many times and it was now tucked inthe bosom of her dress.

Lord Thralldom regarded her with feelings of no particularinterest. She was no canvas with oil paint smeared across it,only just a creature of flesh and blood, and a woman at that.

"Ann," he said quietly, and regarding her in a way which shethought very strange, "since we had that little conversation inyour room, you have not spoken to anyone about that incident inthe chapel?"

"No, uncle," she replied, rather uneasy at the intentness ofhis gaze. "Why should I have spoken about it? It would notinterest anyone."

"No, of course not," he replied, still staring very hard, "ofcourse not, why should it?" He spoke carelessly. "Well, Ipromised you the other day that I would take you down into thedungeons sometime, and as I shall be going there myself afterluncheon"—he turned away his eyes at last and looked out ofthe window—"you shall come with me then." His eyes wereback upon her in a sudden flash. "But not a word to anybody," headded sternly, "not a word to anybody, remember. It is just asecret between ourselves."

The girl's heart beat unpleasantly. There was more of acommand than a request in his tones and, although she did notwant to offend him, she was remembering her solemn promise toLarose. She stood, hesitating, not knowing how to frame herreply.

But Lord Thralldom appeared to take it for granted that ananswer was not required, and producing a bundle of keys from hispocket, he turned round to his desk and opening a drawer, tookout a bundle of bank notes. He counted off ten of them and heldthem out to her.

"Here's a little present of £100," he said. "Your motherinforms me that you want some more clothes and so you and she canmake a trip into Norwich to-morrow and do some shopping. No, youneedn't thank me," he went on as she took the notes. He smiledpeculiarly. "Now, run away and come to me in the library at halfpast three." He raised his finger warningly. "But remember, not aword to anyone where we are going."

The girl laughed embarrassedly. "Thank you very much for thepresent, Uncle," she said. "I'm sure it's awfully kind of you."She stood hesitating. "But about going down into the dungeons,I'd rather not, if you don't mind. We've had so many horrorslately and really——"

"But I want you to come with me," he insisted. He smiledpeculiarly again. "I want you for company, my dear."

There was a gentle knock upon the door and it was opened byWilliam. Larose was standing behind him.

Lord Thralldom had not heard the knock, and with his backtowards the door, he was not aware that it was open.

"Mr. Larose, my lord," announced the footman and LordThralldom, turning quickly, composed his features instantly to acareless and indifferent expression.

The detective flashed a quick look at the girl as she wasleaving the room, and she returned it with a smile and a littlebow. The door closed behind her and Larose was alone with LordThralldom.

"But I thought you had left the neighbourhood long ago," saidhis lordship with a frown. "I was very surprised to learn youwere on the telephone." He motioned to a chair against a smallcupboard built in flush against the wall. "Sit down."

"My enquiries are not yet finished, my lord," replied thedetective, "and I have still——"

"Not finished!" interrupted his lordship angrily, "and whilstyou have been wasting the authorities' time, that dastardlyattempt was made upon my possessions here. It is a scandal that acloser watch should not be kept upon the criminal classes andthat we taxpayers should have to pay out for services that arenot rendered. I understand now that that man Kelly was a knownbad character, with his history among the records of the police."He looked curiously at Larose. "Well, what do you want now?"

"To go through the underground parts of this castle," repliedLarose promptly. "I am not satisfied that there is no passagethere leading out on to the lands outside."

"Oh!" sneered Lord Thralldom, "you are not, are you?" He spokewith intense sarcasm. "And you think you can find one, if thereis?"

"Well," replied Larose hesitantly, "I should like a halfhour's inspection, anyhow."

"A half hour's inspection!" gasped Lord Thralldomincredulously. "You think you can search my dungeons, my vaultsand my underground passages—in half an hour? Good Heavens!"He laughed scoffingly. "Well, you shall have your chance."

"The petrol lantern from the garage," ordered his lordshipsharply, "and be quick about it, please," and when the footmanhad left upon his errand, he looked at his wrist watch and addedto Larose—"Yes, I can give you just half an hour, and thenI have an appointment with my bailiff, and then I am supervisingsome new electric installations." He rubbed his hands together."Upon the next occasion when any enterprising gentleman attemptsto enter the gallery without invitation, there will be no needfor any charge to be made against him, for he will beelectrocuted at once."

Larose made no comment, for he was thinking hard. He hadsuddenly become very puzzled, for the memory of those awful daysand nights that he had spent in the dungeons had all at oncerecurred to him. He did not know what had stirred the memory butits chords were now vibrating violently and he was askinghimself—"why?"

"Oh! by-the-bye," went on Lord Thralldom pleasantly, "myfriend, Colonel Wedgwood, the Chief Constable of Suffolk, waslunching here yesterday, and your name cropping up, he spoke veryhighly of you. But I did not know you were an Australian." Henodded. "I was in South Australia myself once, upon a sheepstation near Lake Frome and I remember I had a very sportingtime. I am pretty good with the rifle, as with all fire-arms, andmy chief occupation was keeping down the wild dogs. I becamequite an expert too, in trapping them and laying the poisonbaits."

The eyes of the detective gleamed, but before he had time tomake any comment, William arrived with the petrol lantern.

"We are making a visit to below the castle," explained LordThralldom sharply to the footman, "and you will come and carrythe lantern."

Larose was watching the footman closely, but if the latterwere dismayed by the announcement, his face, nevertheless, didnot show it. Perhaps his eyes moved more restlessly, but that wasall.

Lord Thralldom led the way down a long corridor parallel withthe chapel walls, until they came to a large, closely-fittingdoor at the end. He unlocked it and they passed inside.

"Mind the steps," he said. "They are rather steep," and thedetective noted he was walking strongly and did not need anyassistance. At the bottom of the steps there was another door andas Lord Thralldom opened it, Larose started, for he knew then whyhe had been so suddenly reminded of his recent sufferings, whenhe had been sitting talking to Lord Thralldom upstairs.

He had received just a faint whiff then of the same dank,suffocating smell that he had endured for so long in thedungeons, and he realised in a flash, that it must have come fromthe cupboard behind where he had been sitting.

But he had no time to pursue this train of thought, for, withthe second door opened and closed behind them, he was once againin the long, low corridor that he had come to know so well, andLord Thralldom was addressing him.

"Well, here you are, sir," he said sarcastically, "and wherewill you go first? Hold the light up, William, and never mind therats. They won't spring at you, unless they're cornered. Come on,we'll go straight forward." He turned again to the detective andspoke most politely. "I am afraid I cannot help you much in yoursearch, for my eyesight is very poor in semi-darkness, so muchso, that I am quite unable to distinguish between one person andanother when I encounter them."

They walked slowly down along the corridor with Lord Thralldomstopping many times to point out to the detective the innumerablechambers with their dark gaping entrances, and the passages thatbranched off on either side.

"A good half-hour's work, Mr. Larose," he remarked pleasantly,"and we've a lot more to see yet. What!" he exclaimed sharply andturning now to the footman who had just kicked viciously at a bigrat, "you're afraid of them are you, William?"

Then perhaps for the first time his master saw William smile,as without a word in reply, the footman plunged his arm deep downinto a space between the stones of the wall and with his nakedhand tore out a squealing, struggling rat. He held it up forinspection for a few moments, and then transferring his grip tothe tail, he whirled the animal round and round and then finallydashed it to a pulp against the wall.

"Good!" said his lordship grimly, "then I see you are notafraid." He nodded his head. "I've fought in three wars, but Iwould not have cared to do that."

They came in a few minutes to the flags under which lay thesteps leading to the chamber with the hidden well, and Larosestopped abruptly.

Lord Thralldom and the footman stopped too. "I smell nothing,"said his lordship sharply. "Do you, William?"

"No, my lord," the footman replied, and his master at oncesigned to him to move on.

They went about another twenty yards and then Larose stoppedagain. "It's here too," he exclaimed. "A smell of putrefyingflesh."

This time Lord Thralldom seemed more disposed to stop, and fora few moments sniffed as hard as the detective was doing. Then hemoved on again. "Come on," he said testily. "You can't expect theperfume of a lady's boudoir in these dungeons, and we are nothere to differentiate between the various smells."

They descended the steps leading down into the vaults and LordThralldom remarked casually, "This is where my ancestors areburied, going back for more than 800 years."

"And what's that for?" asked the detective pointing to thelong stone slab upon which, three nights previously, he had seenthe dead body.

"For the bearers to rest the coffins upon," replied LordThralldom, "while they prepared the ropes for lowering them intothe graves." He spoke proudly. "Many who have contributed to theglory of our great country have passed their last moments abovethe earth there."

"Very interesting," commented Larose. He approached the slaband then, with a quick movement, bent down and there was a noteof startled surprise in his voice when after a few moments hespoke again.

Lord Thralldom turned his head sharply and opened his eyesvery wide. Then instantly his look of astonishment changed to ascowl and he strode over to where the detective was standing.

"Hold up the light, William," he said, and then after amoment's inspection, he exclaimed, "Nonsense! it's only some markin the stone."

"And how could blood get down here?" sneered Lord Thralldom."Really, sir, you have a mind for horrors. First, you smellputrefying flesh and then you say this mark is blood. Bothimpossibilities," and he turned away, as if the matter wereworthy of no more consideration.

The detective followed after him into the vaults. "And allyour ancestors, my lord, are buried under these stones?" heasked.

"Up to the last two generations," replied Lord Thralldom. "Thelast interment here, was ninety-three years ago."

Larose appeared to be most interested and stared down at thebig flags. "Thomas, tenth lord of Thralldom," he read out, "in yeyeare of oure lorde——" He broke off suddenly. "Butthis has been lifted recently!"

Lord Thralldom glanced down without much interest. "Another ofyour extraordinary ideas," he began, "really——" Buthe stopped speaking and stood frowningly regarding the flag.

Then suddenly the petrol lantern that the footman was carryingbegan to give trouble. Its fight flickered and wavered and beganto die away, finally it almost went out.

"You duffer!" he laughed. "You were turning it off and noton," and in an aside to himself he added, "I've no hankering tobe here with two madmen in the dark."

Lord Thralldom was still looking at the big flag stone. "Nowthat's strange," he said, "for bar myself, no one has been downhere for a score and more of years."

But Larose had almost fallen up against him. "Oh! I feelfaint," he exclaimed. "Let's get out of this. I've had quiteenough," and still holding to the lantern, he tottered to theentrance to the vaults.

The others followed him and proceeding with all haste, for thedetective kept on averting that he was suffocating, they reachedthe first door leading up into the castle.

Then a most disconcerting surprise awaited them, for LordThralldom could not find his bunch of keys. He went through everypocket and flashed the light everywhere upon the ground, butthere was no sign of them anywhere. They were lost.

"Oh! I remember hearing something drop," said the detectivefaintly, "when we were in one of those dungeons at the far end,but I have no recollection which."

"Well, we'll have to go back and search," said Lord Thralldom,looking very annoyed. "We know where we've been and they must heabout somewhere."

"But I can't come with you," wailed Larose, "I don't feelequal to it. I'll stay here and wait."

"Keep where you are, then," said Lord Thralldom sharply, "oryou may easily get lost."

They left the detective almost upon the verge of collapse, butthe instant they had moved away and he was beyond the rays of thelantern, a most extraordinary change at once took place in hiscondition, for he sprang briskly to his feet and producing themissing keys from his pocket, began feverishly to insert them,one after another, in the lock.

"But I'm a most competent pickpocket," he chuckled gleefully,"and if the worse comes to the worse, I can look up somereputable practitioner and go into partnership with him. But Oh!these keys!" he went on ruefully, "There must be quite twenty ofthem."

And it was not until he had tried fully half of the bunch thathe found the one he wanted and then to his great relief, hediscovered that it opened the second door as well.

"Now for it," he panted breathlessly as he raced along thepassage, "and I'll see what's in that cupboard. I can't have beenmistaken in that smell."

Coming out of the passage he at once slowed down to anordinary walk and it was well he did, for just as he had turnedthe corner he met James. The latter smiled and stood aside forhim to pass, for he was by now so accustomed to the coming andgoing of detectives that he experienced no surprise at seeingLarose there, alone.

The detective was soon in the little room and standing beforethe cupboard door. He sniffed hard as he began trying out thekeys. "Yes, there's no mistake about it," he whispered. "This isthe dungeon smell."

The fourth key that he inserted was the one that fitted thelock and in a second the door was swung open. For the momentthen, his heart almost stopped beating in disappointment, for thecupboard seemed only to contain innumerable ledgers and accountbooks. Then just as he was beginning to feel almost sick withdisgust, his eyes fell upon a long, plain wooden box below thebottom shelf, and in a trice he had lifted it out upon thefloor.

It was locked, and from the appearance of the lock, it did notseem as if the key that belonged to it were upon the bunch thathe had taken from the pocket of Lord Thralldom.

But he was in no mood for any more delay and so picking up thepoker that was lying in the grate, with a few vigorous blows, heburst in the lock.

A pair of big rubber boots, well muddied over with black mud;a long overall of black cloth, with ugly stains upon it; twopairs of gloves, the fingers of one of which were caked stiffwith what looked like dried blood, and lastly, a short battle-axewhose unwiped blade had evidently seen dreadful service at a veryrecent date!

And over everything hung the foul, dank, reek of the dungeons.The detective's face was ghastly white, but he did not trembleand his hands did not shake as he quickly replaced the box withits contents and locked the cupboard door.

"My God!" he whispered, "but it's too horrible to believe andhe a peer of the realm, too!"

Then, looking round quickly, he tore a piece of blotting paperfrom the pad upon the desk and lighting it at the fire, blew outthe flame and waved the smouldering paper round.

"That should make it all right," he whispered again, "andhe'll not notice that the cupboard has been opened." His voicehardened. "Now for those two wretches below, and I'm halfinclined to leave them where they are. They both know the way outand yet neither of them will dare to use that chapel door." Hethought for a moment. "I'd like to, but no, this dreadful dramamust not be played out there."

So, in two minutes he was back again in the dungeon corridorand saw the faint light of the lantern wavering to and fro in thedistance. He waited a minute or so to recover his breath and thencalled out shrilly. "I've got them. They are here. I just feltthem under my feet."

The light stopped wavering. He heard Lord Thralldom's deepvoice and then the latter, followed by the footman, came up towhere he was lying. The lord of the castle looked very tired.

"So, you found them here," he growled as Larose handed him thekeys. "Then you couldn't have heard them drop at all." He eyedthe detective angrily. "Well, I hope this is the last of you.You've been a great annoyance to me and I'm weary of it."

Not another word was spoken as they ascended the stairs andthen when finally they had reached the hall, Lord Thralldom badethe detective a curt good morning and and turned off in thedirection of his room.

Larose slipped a half note into the footman's hand. "Whew!" heexclaimed, "but that was an unpleasant experience and I shouldn'tcare to go through it again." He looked round enquiringly. "Butsee, I've got a message for Miss Devenham. Do you know where sheis?"

The footman was nervously crushing the note in his hand, for,with all his impassive appearance, he was inwardly in a state ofgreat mental stress and was exhausted with the varying emotionsthat, like storm upon storm, had just been sweeping through hisbrain.

At one moment the foul air of the dungeons had been as a deepdraught of wine to him, and he had had difficulty in rememberingthat he was not there alone. Then, he had shaken in terror whenLord Thralldom had been so curiously regarding the lifted flags,but anger swiftly supervening, murderous intentions had flared upand he had started to extinguish the lantern. But the grip of thedetective had recalled him to a less courageous state of mind,and from then he had been expecting every moment that somethingterrible was going to happen to him.

Now, however, the present of the ten shillings from Larosereassured him in some degree, and he was able to answer calmlyenough.

A minute or so passed and then Ann came quickly into the hall,with a very anxious expression upon her face. She could notunderstand how the detective had dared to send for her soopenly.

Larose wasted no time. "You must leave here almost at once,"he said sharply, "for within a few hours this will be no placefor you. This afternoon your uncle will learn everything."

"Nothing as yet," was the stern reply, "but a lot's going tohappen before this evening. Now look here. At half past two Mr.Harden will be waiting for you on the marsh road. Slip out andmeet him. Take no luggage with you, only a parcel that you cancarry in your hand. Pack a suit-case if you like and hide itunder the bed in your room. I will pick it up later in the dayand take it to Mr. Harden's lodgings, where it can be forwardedto any address you leave."

"To be married," and the detective's grim face relaxed to akindly smile. "Miss Devenham," he went on earnestly, "I swear toyou solemnly that in all my life I have never tried to rendergreater service to any human being, than I am trying to render toyou now. If you have any affection for Mr. Harden, if you haveany love for the man who wants to marry you"—he was almostthreatening her now—"do as I implore you and leave thisaccursed place for ever. Good-bye. I can't wait a minute.Remember at half past two standing on the marsh road," and hewalked quickly over to the grille where William was waiting tolet him out.

Lord Thralldom had spoken truly when he had told the detectivethat he had an appointment with his bailiff in half an hour, andfive minutes after he returned from the visit to the dungeons, hewas interviewing the man in the same room where he had spoken toLarose.

Their discussion had proceeded for some little time, when LordThralldom had occasion to consult one of the big ledgers in thecupboard Larose had opened. He had taken down the book he wantedwhen his eyes happened to fall upon the box under the bottomshelf. Perceiving instantly its battered condition, he staredincredulously for a few moments. Then he lifted the broken lidand looked inside. But his glance was a very brief one andclosing the box, he replaced the book and locked thecupboard.

Then with the excuse that he was tired, he at once dismissedthe bailiff and alone again in the room, stood for quite a longwhile looking out of the window.

There was no appearance of panic about him, on the contrary hewas quite calm and collected.

He pressed upon the bell and William glided noiselessly intothe room. He looked frowningly at him.

"And did that detective say anything to you," was the nextquestion, "after I had left the hall?"

"Nothing particular, my lord. He just waited until he hadspoken to Miss Devenham and then I showed him straight out."

Lord Thralldom lifted his eyebrows. "Oh! he spoke to MissDevenham did he? How was that?"

"He said he had a message for her," replied the footman, "andasked me to fetch her."

A short silence followed and then Lord Thralldom said, "SendJames to me," and when the second footman appeared he askedsharply,

"Did you throw any paper on the fire here, when I was belowthe castle with William and that man from Scotland Yard?"

"No, my lord," replied James, "but I put some coal on justbefore that Mr. Larose came up. He passed me in the passage."

"Oh!" exclaimed his lordship. He turned away to the window."Thank you. Now, tell Miss Devenham that I want to speak toher."

"So, so," he murmured when the footman had gone, "then it isme he has been interested in all along, and by some miraculousmeans he has discovered things it is unfortunate for me that heshould know. He did not then ask those questions for nothing justnow, and if I do not take steps to close his mouth, the worst mayhappen." He paced up and down the room. "It is a sacred duty thatat all costs I should protect my Rubens, and although I mayregret that upon some occasions I have had to take extrememeasures, still it was right that I acted as I did. With everyhour, innumerable new lives are being given to the world, but a'Man of Sorrows' such as mine, is painted once only, in thelifetime of all mankind."

Ann came into the room and, although her face was quitecomposed, she was feeling very frightened.

"Yes," he replied. "I wish to speak to you." He paused amoment and then asked very sternly, "What did that detective wantwith you just now?"

The girl laughed nervously. "He had a message for me from Mr.Harden," she replied. "They are friends and Mr. Harden wants toknow if I am going to Lady Pouncett's dance next week. He will bethere."

"Yes," she nodded, "that was all." A little warmth came intoher face. "I don't think you and mother," she went on, "are atall nice about Mr. Harden, Uncle. I like him and I don't see whyI shouldn't meet him again."

Lord Thralldom was frowning hard, but then all suddenly hisface broke into a pleasant smile. "Well, well," he said as ifrather amused, "perhaps we have been a little too hard on him."He nodded. "You can go to that dance next week. Tell your motherI said so. Run away now, I'm busy, but don't forget thisafternoon," and he began turning over the papers on his desk.

"She was probably lying," he said when she had left the room,"but still it won't matter after this afternoon." He shook hishead and his eyes gleamed fiercely. "No, nothing will ever matteras long as I keep my Rubens."

He strode quickly over to the cupboard and unlocked it. Thenhe drew out the gloves and overall from the box and threw them onthe fire. He picked up the battle-axe and stood regarding itthoughtfully for a few moments. Then with a grim smile he carriedit into the bathroom and held it under the tap there until theblade was quite clean. Then he dried it carefully upon one of thetowels and replaced it again in the box, relocking the cupboarddoor.

"Now for that man from the Yard," he muttered, and he pickedup the receiver of the telephone upon his desk. "He said he wasstaying at Minsmere and so he'll probably be at the inn."

He was put through to the inn, and learning that Larose wasstaying there but had just gone out, left a message that he wouldlike to see the detective, upon an important matter, immediatelyupon his return.

Then he opened a drawer in the desk and took out a smallautomatic pistol, making sure before he transferred it to hispocket that it was fully loaded.

"Accidents so often happen with firearms," he remarked dryly,"and when I am showing this little toy to the gentleman fromScotland Yard, if it should happen to go off, well," he lookedvery disdainful—"who would dare bring any accusationagainst Lord Thralldom?" He nodded his head slowly. "Yes, theChief Constable said the fellow always works alone, and delightsin springing dramatic surprises at the very end." He noddedagain.

CHAPTER XIX. — THE TOLLING OF THE BELL

WHEN Larose returned to the inn on MinsmereHaven he found Naughton Jones with the head warder of theBroadmoor Lunatic Asylum who had arrived about an hourpreviously, impatiently awaiting him.

The warder was a very homely-looking man with all theappearance of an unsophisticated farmer, but he at once proceededto question the detective in a sharp and businesslike mannerabout the suspected footman at the castle.

"That's him," he said at once, "and we'll have to be darnedcareful how we nab him. If we rush him and don't give him anytime to think, he'll be all shaken up and come like a lamb, butif we give him the chance to get his wits together, he's likelyto give a lot of trouble. He's dangerous when he's roused. We'lltake up a couple of Roberts with us from Saxmundham."

Without waiting for any meal, they drove at once intoSaxmundham, Larose going in his own car and the warder takingNaughton Jones with him in the car in which he had driven downfrom London.

"You go on to the police station," said Larose, "and I'llfollow in ten minutes. I have a call to make, first."

The detective pulled up at the house where he knew John Hardenwas lodging and found the latter about to sit down to his middaymeal.

"What's up?" he asked anxiously, the moment he set eyes uponLarose. "Anything happened?"

"Not yet," replied Larose, "but something's going to, thisafternoon." He looked him straight in the face. "Now, Mr. Harden,have you any ready money?"

Harden looked very surprised but answered quickly enough."Yes, I can lend you some. How much do you want?"

The detective smiled. "I don't want any, thank you, but now,have you sufficient to get married straight-away upon, and go fora nice honeymoon with?"

The young fellow got very red. "Plenty, if it comes to that,"he replied. He laughed nervously. "But what do you mean?"

"Well, have you got a motor-car?" went on the detective.Harden nodded. "I can borrow one," he replied. "I've started myholidays to-day, and a friend has offered to lend me his for aslong as I like."

"Good," said Larose, "then go and borrow it at once. Don'twait for any dinner. You can make up for that this evening invery pleasant company." He spoke sharply. "At half past two, MissDevenham will be waiting for you upon the marsh road. Drive awaywith her at once and marry her to-morrow by special licence inLondon."

"Well, now's your chance," interrupted Larose. "She's waitingfor you and if you miss this opportunity, you will regret it allyour days, and even if you marry her later, she will never be thesame woman if she's been a spectator of what's going to takeplace at the castle this afternoon." His voice was harsh in itsinsistence. "Take her away, John, and give her the happiness thatshe deserves. Don't ask questions, but we've found the murdererand a bomb is going to burst within a couple of hours." He drewin a deep breath. "God only knows what's going to happen."

He walked quickly to the door. "I can't wait." He noddedsmilingly. "If ever a man has had happiness thrust upon him, youare having it thrust upon you now. Goodbye. Good luck to you.I'll be seeing you again some day."

He drove up to the police station and found the head warderand Jones waiting there. Much to the annoyance of them all, theInspector was out and they had to wait nearly an hour and a halfbefore he returned.

The warder's business was quickly dealt with, and then Larose,with no preliminaries, demanded a warrant for the arrest of LordThralldom upon the charge of having murdered Augustus Holden,Rita Ethelton and three other persons.

The Inspector was aghast and although Larose briefly outlinedthe discoveries he had made, and was supported by Naughton Jonesas to the finding of the bodies in the well, at first resolutelyrefused to issue the warrant.

"Lord Thralldom is the chief magistrate here," he argued, witha very white face, "and I dare not move until I have consultedheadquarters. I'll ring up the Chief Constable in Ipswich. Youcan wait until——"

"We can't wait a moment," interrupted Larose sternly. "We havealready wasted an hour and a half here and every minute's delayis dangerous. Lord Thralldom is a madman and to my certainknowledge has determined to make away with yet another personthis afternoon." He looked very sternly at the Inspector. "If youfail in your duty now, it will mean dismissal from theForce."

"I don't need to be told my duty by anyone," replied theInspector angrily. "I——"

"But you do need to be told it," interrupted Larose again. "Ihave given you the clearest proofs, supported by the word of Mr.Naughton Jones, whose reputation——"

"I know, I know," said the flurried Inspector wiping theperspiration from his forehead, "but you see, you are putting mein a dreadful position, Mr. Larose, and I——"

The detective saw that he was wavering. "Make out the warrant,sir," he said quietly. "The responsibility is all mine."

The Inspector gave in, and five minutes later, seated next toLarose, was being driven up to Thralldom Castle. In the carbehind were Naughton Jones, the warder from Broadmoor and twouniformed policemen.

During the short drive Larose gave yet more details to theInspector and by the time they were approaching the castle, thatofficial was much easier in his mind, and indeed was almostpleasantly excited.

"And the coincidence is, Mr. Larose," he remarked, "that I wasactually intending to come up to the castle this afternoon, forthe description of a man wanted by the French police correspondspretty closely to that of the chef they've got here. He's wantedfor several burglaries across the channel."

According to arrangement, the warder was kept out of sightuntil they had seen which footman answered their ring. It turnedout to be James and directly he had unlocked the grille, Laroseseized him by one arm and the Inspector by the other.

"With his lordship in the gallery," gasped the footman, veryfrightened when he saw the other four men come trooping in. "I'llgo and tell his lordship——"

"No, you won't," said Larose. "We'll just announce ourselves.I'll go first," he went on to the Inspector, "and the others hadbetter follow pretty close. We'll take them by surprise and notgive them that moment's chance, for the footman will possibly bearmed. It's unfortunate they are in the gallery though, for thegallery's very long and if they're at the other end, they maywake up to what's happening before we're on them."

They crept softly up the stairs and round the corner to theopening of the gallery. The gate of the mutilated grille wasstanding wide open and they had a clear view of everythinginside.

A big arm-chair had been drawn up close before 'The Man ofSorrows,' and Lord Thralldom was lying back in a profoundreverie, with his eyes half closed in ecstatic contemplation ofthe canvas. His massive head was sunk upon his chest, his armswere folded and he breathed in the quiet and tranquil manner ofone asleep.

The footman at the far end of the gallery was busy with afeather duster, with his back towards the grille.

Larose tiptoed softly forward, with the Inspector and theothers close upon his heels.

Then suddenly, one of the policemen slipped upon the parquetflooring and crashed heavily against the wall.

Lord Thralldom looked up sharply to see what had occasionedthe noise, and perceiving Larose with the little crowd behindhim, after one startled moment of surprise sprang like lightningto his feet and snatching a pistol from his pocket, pointed itstraight before him.

"Stop, stop," he shouted fiercely. "Stop, all of you, or Ifire." His voice rose to a shriek. "Stop, you, Larose, and keepyour hands away from your body. Quick, sharp! or I fire."

Larose gritted his teeth in fury, for he realised in a flashthat there was no help for it but to stop. Forty feet and moreseparated him from Lord Thralldom and there was that deadlylittle blue barrel just level with his eyes.

"Not a movement, any of you," roared Lord Thralldom. "I'veseven bullets here, and I'll not miss with one. I was the bestshot in the British Army once. William," he called out withoutturning his head, "you've got your pistol, haven't you?"

"Then empty it among them if any of them move," shouted hismaster. "Don't wait an instant."

A short silence followed, with the little huddled crowd by thegrille mortified beyond all expression. They were as if caught ina trap and it looked instant death if any of them moved. Theywere not too certain either, that death was not inevitable forsome of them whatever they did.

Lord Thralldom laughed mockingly. "Ah! but I was prepared foryou," he scoffed. "I expected something like this." The light ofmadness gleamed in his eyes. "You are all conspirators and youhave come to rob me of my Rubens. You—you, Larose"—hecould hardly get his breath—"you are the ring-leader ofthem all, and a bullet will be too merciful for you." He spat outhis words. "You have been spying on my lands here, you have beenspying in this castle, and you have been rifling the graves of mydead!" His voice rose to a shriek again. "Why! you even dared topoint out to me this morning the very stones that you have liftedup! You boasted——"

But Larose had been thinking rapidly. He was sure that if thismadman before them were allowed to have all the fury on his own,then things would speedily work up to a climax and they would endby his discharging his pistol indiscriminately among them.

So the only chance, and it was a frail one, was to so protractthe duration of his fury, that his emotions would exhaust him andthereby render him less capable of using his weapon effectively.Already, the detective saw that the pistol hand was wavering.

"You lie, my lord," he shouted. "I have rifled no graves andit is not I who have been violating your dead. It is that shakingwretch behind you who has done it. He knows the secret of thechapel door, and night after night he has been descending intothe vaults, and desecrating the resting places of those fromwhose loins your great house has sprung. He has defiled thiscastle and brought shame upon you, who are the custodian of yourdead."

The detective stopped for want of breath and Lord Thralldom,stunned into silence by his outburst, gaped at him as if he werea ghost.

"Yes," went on Larose in sharp ringing tones, "and he is aconvict, that man. He has escaped from Broadmoor and we have cometo arrest him. He is Carl Heidelburg and the head warder of theasylum is here to identify him. He——"

But a snarl of fury came from the far end of the gallery, acry as if some wild beast cornered by its enemies, and thefootman was seen to spring forward and, with one hand shading hiseyes against the sunlight that was streaming through the windows,with the other to menace the little group of police officers withhis pistol.

He danced and chattered in his rage and his pistol was adanger to everyone before him.

"It's me he's looking for," whispered the head warder throughdry lips, "and I'll be cold meat in two seconds, if he's any goodwith his gun."

Then suddenly two shots rang out in quick succession. Onecrashed splinteringly through the glass protecting the Rubens,but for the moment it was not known where the other had gone.

Then, with a strangled cry Lord Thralldom fell forward on tothe floor. Blood gushed from his mouth, he coughed horribly, andthen gasping, "My Rubens, my Rubens!" turned over and closed hiseyes.

A fierce rush followed, for regardless of all consequences, awave of men surged over towards the convict Heidelburg.

The man stood staring at the fallen body of his master andthen looking up and seeing that his enemies were almost upon him,he smiled a dreadful smile and putting the muzzle of his pistolbetween his teeth, blew his brains out.

Then, when everyone was standing speechless and appalled atthe double tragedy that had occurred, the great bell in thebelfry began to toll.

"Dong—dong—dong—dong," as it had tolled alldown the ages when a lord of Thralldom had passed away.

Naughton Jones was the first to recover himself. He thought ittime he should assert his individuality among the officialpolice, and he bent down in a grave professional manner over thebody of Lord Thralldom.

"The bullet severed the carotid artery," he announced, "andthere was no hope in the world for him then. Iremember——" but to his great annoyance, he found noone was listening.

"Gee!" exclaimed the Inspector, "but that was a close shave,and it was Mr. Larose who saved us." He looked round to speak tothe detective, but the latter was nowhere to be seen.

Then excited voices were heard upon the stairs and LadyDeering, followed by some of the maids, came running into thegallery.

"What's happened?" she asked in a terrified tone, and thenseeing the Inspector and the policeman there, she went onthankfully, "Oh! we thought it was another raid and I sent Jamesup into the belfry to ring the big bell."

But she caught sight of the body of Lord Thralldom upon thefloor, and her voice rose instantly to a wail. "Oh! tell mewhat's happened! Quick!"

The Inspector broke the dreadful news as gently as he could,and she burst instantly into a flood of tears.

"Keep her out of it, my lady," said the Inspector sternly."This is no place for a young girl."

"But she's the heiress of Thralldom," she cried. "Her uncle'sleft everything to her, and it's only right that she should behere."

In the meantime, Larose had made his way swiftly, at first, tohis car, and then back towards the servants' hall. He came uponCroupin craning his head round the corridor.

"No, he's shot himself and he's dead too; but quick, you mustget away. They're after you, and Naughton Jones is here."

Croupin made a grimace of dismay and darting into the kitchen,reappeared, struggling to get James's overcoat over his chef'sclothes.

"Go to my car, quick," exclaimed Larose. "It's the red onejust outside the door. Hide under the rug upon the floor at theback. No one will go and sit there, because I've spilt oil allover the cushions. Now, quick, at once, for you've not a secondto spare. Lie quiet, whatever happens, and I'll get you out ofthis somehow."

"Bien, I'm quite sure you will," grinned the Frenchmanturning to run off. "With you and me, together, we cannotfail."

"You did splendidly, Mr. Larose," said theChief Commissioner of Police when, a few days later, he and thedetective were talking things over at Scotland Yard, "andalthough the arrest of Lord Thralldom would have been a greatfeather in your cap, still it was best for everyone that thematter should have ended as it did. After all, as a nation we areproud of our aristocracy, and it would have been a terriblescandal if Lord Thralldom had been charged."

"And it was best, too, for Miss Devenham, or rather Mrs.Harden I should say," said Larose, "for it would have been adreadful shadow on her life if she had learnt everything. Now,she need never know what her uncle was and what a narrow escapeshe herself had."

The Commissioner nodded. "But fancy the old wretch alteringhis will the very day he was intending to kill her and making herhis sole heiress so that if her body had ever come to be foundafterwards, it would have looked incredible that he could havehad a hand in her death! Ah! but he was cunning!"

"Yes, he was much more cunning than I could have thought,"commented Larose, "but it was only by chance that he found out Ihad broken open that box. If he had not gone to the cupboard forthat ledger, he would never have suspected anything. Then, ofcourse, he remembered having smelt the paper that I hadsmouldered and after that—well, James gave everything awayto him." He nodded. "Still, those four metal buttons in the asheswere conclusive that he had destroyed the overall in the fire andthat towel in the bathroom showed where he had cleaned up theaxe."

The Commissioner nodded in his turn. "But we were bound to actupon that hint we received from high up," he said, "and yougained a lot in the estimation of everyone who knows the realfacts, by the tactful way in which you gave your evidence at theinquest. You avoided most skilfully a lot of awkward points and Idon't wonder the coroner summed up dead against Heidelburg,giving the jury practically no option but to return a verdict ofwilful murder against him." He frowned. "But it didn't matter. Weknew him to have been responsible for two deaths and he was amost repellent character."

"Well, it was a good thing, in any case, that he shothimself," commented Larose. "It saved a lot of trouble."

"Yes, and there's another thing," laughed the Commissioner."The Suffolk police were perfectly dumbfounded at what you hadfound out, and they have been feeling very cheap ever since. Isaw their Chief Constable yesterday and he said, 'Confound thatGilbert Larose of yours and please keep him out of my county infuture. I should probably have been in the next honour's list butfor him, and now I shall have to remain plain Colonel Wedgewoodfor the rest of my life!'"

"Oh! by-the-bye, one thing more," exclaimed the Commissioner,pretending to look very stern. "About that French chef who was sovery useful to you up at the castle and is supposed to be the manthe Paris people are wanting so badly. It has come to me in avery roundabout way that Naughton Jones is of the opinion youhelped the fellow to escape. He says that when your car wasrequisitioned to give a lift to those two policemen, back toSaxmundham, you made them squeeze into the front seat along withyou, because some oil had been spilt on the back cushions."

"Well, what of that?" asked Larose innocently. "They wouldn'twant to soil their uniforms would they?"

"Perhaps not," agreed the Commissioner smiling, "but Jonesremembered afterwards there was a thick rug flung loosely overthe floor at the back of the car and later after having shakenhands with you in saying good-bye, when he came to light hispipe, he smelt oil upon his fingers."

Larose grinned. "A very remarkable man, sir, that Jones," hereplied, "but he's got too much imagination by far, when he'stalking about his friends," and bowing most respectfully, heproceeded to leave the room.

The following year, uponone gorgeous day in early June, Larose met John Harden in RegentStreet, just as the latter had alighted from a very beautifullooking car. They shook hands warmly.

"You must come down and see us, Mr. Larose," said Harden afterthey had exchanged a few remarks. "We've got a lovely place justoutside Haslemere and I'm going in extensively for Jersey cows.They are the only things my wife brought from Thralldom. Youheard, of course, that she sold the castle?"

"Yes, a Judge Morrison, and he's a very good fellow." Helaughed. "He's immensely proud of those dungeons and especiallyof that dreadful one with the well."

"No," replied Harden quickly. "I came up alone for a couple ofhours to do some shopping for her." He pretended to look veryannoyed. "You know, Mr. Larose, my wife thinks the world of you,and if I hadn't happened to meet her first, I'd have never had alook in." He shook his head. "She's always trying to make mejealous by reminding me of that night when she took care of youin her bedroom."

"She's a charming girl, Mr. Harden," said Larose solemnly,"and you had the luck of the world when you married her."

"Yes, I did," nodded Harden, "and I shall always be gratefulto you for the way you ordered us about that dreadful day." Hesmiled. "But now look here, do you happen to know that MonsieurAntoine's address?"

"No, I don't for the moment," replied Larose, "but he's backin France, I think. What do you want to know for?"

"Because we had a beautiful wedding present from him lastweek," replied Harden. "Three pairs of most lovely, old silvercandlesticks. We've never seen anything like them before, andthey must have cost him a lot of money. He's had my wife'sinitials 'A.H.' engraved on them, too, and we're wondering wherehe can have picked the candlesticks up."

Larose made no comment, but he was now wondering too. He hadvery recently been in Paris and he remembered hearing then of aburglary that had just taken place at Count Hauteville'smagnificent chateau in Chantilly and the count's christian namewas Armande. Ann Harden and Armande Hauteville! both the sameinitials 'A.H.!'

"Well, you'll be coming to see us one day, won't you?" saidHarden after having shaken hands, and turning to go back to hiscar.

"Certainly, I will," replied Larose. "How about next Sunday?Will that suit you?"

The young husband looked very embarrassed. "Well, no," hereplied hesitatingly. "Wait a bit, if you don't mind. Come, sayin a month's time." He laughed slily. "We may have a littlesurprise for you then."

THE new owner of Thralldom Castle had been showing a party of guests over the dungeons and was now providing them with cocktails in the lounge.

"Yes," he said proudly, "everything in the dungeons is exactlyas it was upon the day when Lord Thralldom died. Except for theelectric light that I had installed there, those seats in thecorridor and that half of the well chamber that is railed off formy mushroom beds, nothing is different." He smiled roundimpressively upon the company. "You have seen it, ladies andgentlemen as it has been for over 800 years."

"It was thrilling, Judge," said a pretty girlenthusiastically, "and I have never enjoyed anything so much inall my life." She made a little grimace of disappointment. "But Ithink you ought to have left a few of those rats. Then we shouldhave known something of the horror that detective, Larose, musthave felt, when they were running all over his legs."

"Oh! I really couldn't have done that," replied JudgeMorrison. "They had to be got rid of. There were millions of themdown there." He turned and addressed the resplendently attiredfootman who was serving the cocktails "James, how many brace didthose ratcatchers kill?"

"Twelve hundred and four, my lord—sir, I beg yourpardon," replied the footman deferentially. "That was the countwhen they left."

The judge turned back to his guests and joined merrily in thegeneral laugh. "Well, I knew it was a good number," he said, "andsome were as big as young cats."

"But that Lord Thralldom must have been half mad himself,"commented a tall, distinguished looking man, "to have allowed therats to breed to that extent, for so long."

The judge flashed a covert look at the last speaker, andputting his finger to his lips, waited until the footman hadmoved out of hearing.

"Hush!" he said solemnly. "There are many tales about thatlord." He drew the little company together with his eyes andlowered his voice to a mysterious whisper. "He was mad and thereare rumours, too, that he and that convict footman had beencarrying out that dreadful work together. They say the murderswere done between them and the lord knew all along what was goingon." He nodded darkly. "But of course, it was all hushed up."

"Oh, Judge, Judge," shuddered the pretty girl, "and you sleepin that same bed of his, that you showed us just now!"

"And why not?" laughed the Judge. "It is mine and I've paidfor it. I bought everything in the castle, lock, stock andbarrel, just as it stands. I took over all the staff, too, andto-night you will be waited upon by the same servants that waitedupon the mad lord. Yes, I kept everybody and——" Hecorrected himself quickly. "Ah! no, I did not keep everybody, forthere was one person who wouldn't come back and thatperson"—he sighed and looked very sad—"I would haveperhaps liked to have kept, best of all."

"Oh! who was it?" asked a stout lady, very red in the faceafter her third cocktail.

The judge put his finger to his lips again. "Hush! don't tellmy wife." He just breathed his next words. "It was the greatlord's niece, Ann." He clasped his hands together in ecstasy."She is a real peach!"

"Yes, I've seen her and so she is," commented thedistinguished looking man when the laughter had subsided. Heshook his finger reprovingly at his host. "You are a bad man,sir—but a darned good judge."

James and Bertha,the pretty sewing-maid were walking in the moonlight among theplum-trees in the castle garden. He had his arm round her waistand every now and then he stooped and took a loud kiss.

"Yes," he said meditatively, "it doesn't seem as if anyonecould believe it, but I've had nearly £50 this monthalready, in tips, and if it goes on like this, in six monthswe'll be taking over that Westleton pub."

The girl nestled up closer to him. "And they grow such lovelynasturtiums in the garden there at the back," she sighed. "I'vealways longed to have flowers like that."

"They'll be yours, my dear," said the footman, squeezing herhand, "for we're going to have plenty more visitors here yet. Iheard the old woman telling the judge last night that every roomin the castle was booked up for nearly four months and theymustn't invite any more. But about those tips," he went on,"these swell people who are here now, are real suckers abouthaving chippings off that darned well, and I've only got tomention about them taking a souvenir from where those bodies werefound and they go balmy at once. I could have chipped the wholewell to bits, twice over." He chuckled. "But of course they don'twant the old judge to know." He squeezed her again. "You do loveme, don't you, Bertha?"

The shadows hid the tenderness in the girl's eyes. "No no, Inever do," she replied quickly. She caught her breath. "But oh!dear, I had a strange dream once and I can tell you, now we areengaged. I dreamt before he left, that Monsieur Antoine came intomy room in the middle of the night and stood watching me in themoonlight. I was——"

"What! in your room in the middle of the night!" ejaculatedthe footman. He clenched his fists. "It's a good thing I didn'tknow."

"But it was only a dream," said the girl quickly "for the doorwas locked. I dreamed he was there and that he crept over to mywork basket. So, I pretended to snore and he went away.

"Dream or no dream," said James, "I'd have broken his neck, ifI'd known. Going over to your work basket, indeed! Ah! thatreminds me, I must borrow one of your baskets to-morrow." Hegrinned. "I've run out of my chips again and must go down to thequarry and get some more. They're hot stuff on the souvenirs,this lot here, especially the women." He tilted up her chin."Now, give give us another kiss."