you, got you, by Jupiter!" And even as Sir Lionel sprang forward, with a little angry cry, there came the sharp click-click of the handcuffs, and the boy lay snarling and cursing, no longer a white-faced angel, but a writhing, furious thing, biting and struggling.
"You Judas, you!" snarled Cleek, as he leaned over him and surveyed the distorted face. "You beast! To kill the little lads who trusted you — to betray your own flesh and blood!"
"Man alive!" cried Sir Lionel, leaping forward. "What are you saying? It's impossible, utterly! What had he to do with it?"
Cleek surveyed the baronet with stern eyes. "Everything!" he snapped. "Everything! Perhaps you'd like to hear Her Ladyship laugh once more?" He ducked under the rope, and pushing in one of the little carved acorns which ornamented the frame, stood back.
The effect was startling: peal after peal of laughter rang through the hall. Then, as the others in their excitement surged up to the silken rope, Cleek looked down at the handcuffed figure of the hunchback who was watching them almost breathlessly.
"No, you little devil, you, it is quite safe. They won't all fall down, stone-dead, without a sign or mark, as your poor cousins died. See!" He picked up the red rope, and let it drop to the floor with i metallic clang. "I have had the current disconnected."
Lady Calmount gave vent to a little moaning sound, and stared piteously up into Cleek's face. "What does it mean?" she cried.
"It means, dear lady," said Cleek gently, "that it was all part of a plot. He wanted to make himself the heir. Did it never occur to you or to Sir Lionel that, providing he could only continue his crimes without discovery, he could stand in your son's place? He comes from the French branch of the family, does he not? And your life, your sons', and Captain Calmount's stood between him and this inheritance. Look! I will show you the secret of Her Ladyship's laughter. But there will be no more 'wild deaths' in the family, Sir Lionel." He whipped out his knife, and inserting it between the frame and, the oak-panelled wall, caused the whole picture to slide down gently. A deep, hollow recess revealed itself, in which was seen the big brass funnel of a gramophone.
"Here's our 'Laughing Girl,'" he said swiftly, lifting out the instrument and setting it down upon the floor; "and now you can set her laughing when you like. As for you —" Cleek turned to the prisoner, but at sight of him he gave a little cry and darted forward. For the boy was lying in a little crumpled heap, with head dropped and eyes shut. Cleek bent over him. Then, of a sudden, he straightened himself, and passed a quick hand over his eyes.
"Dead," said he. "Dead, poor, malicious thing! Dead before the rest of his malice could find its way out. Heart, I suppose. Couldn't stand the shock of discovery. Off with the handcuffs. No one ever need know. Put back the picture, Sir Lionel, and call up the servants, and let the outside world understand that the boy died suddenly. After all, it's the best thing that could have happened."
He picked up the limp, lifeless body, pillowed it in his strong arms, and then, at a word from Sir Lionel, passed out into the bedroom, and laid it gently upon the bed. Ten minutes later he telephoned for the doctor.
"How did I come to discover it, Mr. Narkom?" said Cleek, an hour later, as they sat together in Cleek's bedroom and the Superintendent was once more questioning him, while Ailsa made ready for her departure.
"Oh, quite a simple riddle, dear chap. I suspected electricity from the very first; only thing possible to kill like that, and always in the same place. Then when I picked up a shred of yellow flexible wiring on the staircase, that 'gave me to think,' as our French cousins say. On top of that came the unmistakable smell of that insulating material called 'Chatterton,' not after the poet, Mr. Narkom, but its inventor; while the sight of that red cable acting as a rope to guard the picture — which was just a metal copper cable, and coloured red, a live wire, in fact — gave me the whole truth. I was uncertain at first whether it was Gaston or the captain who had committed the crime, until I remembered that there was a framed genealogical table in the library; that gave me the clue. That new hole bored through to the captain's room was too obvious, and, besides, Gaston was so over-anxious to fix the blame on his cousin, that when I found every medical book in the library thick with dust, I began to have my doubts. Then I felt pretty certain that that locked cupboard in his room contained batteries, and I was right, was I not, Mr. Narkom?"
"As you always are, dear chap !" put in that gentleman with a glance of admiration.
Cleek sighed and stretched himself. Then, at the sound of a light footstep on the stair, picked up his hat and went swiftly out of the room.
"She's ready!" he called excitedly, like a wild schoolboy. "She's ready, forsooth! And now back to London and home. I'm anxious to know about Dollops, Mr. Narkom, and to assure myself of his safety. Ready, Ailsa? Ready, Mr. Narkom? Ready, the pair of you? Good-bye, Sir Lionel, and good luck. The son will come home to you safe and sound. No, don't thank me; you have taken care of Miss Lorne, that is sufficient for anything I have done. Good-bye, captain; and apologies for any undue rudeness. Good-bye, all of you. Now, then, Leonard, quick as you can, my boy."
Like a mad thing the car leaped forward and went spinning down the long drive, out through the great gateway and on into the soft, green distances ahead. The sun was like fire in the sky, the day was warm, and summer in her merriest mood; the trees swam past the windows of the car like rivers of green.
Within the limousine, with eyes alight, Ailsa was listening to the old, old story from Cleek's lips, and laughing now and again as she glanced tenderly down at the Maurevanian ring upon her finger, while the Superintendent, with commendable tact, gazed from his window at the changing country, and tried to let them think they were alone.
CHAPTER V.
HOW did I come to suspect the young hunchback?" said Cleek, as they rushed through the coolness of the summer night, leaving Sir Lionel Calmount still dazed with the unexpected revelation of human duplicity, but happy, too, in the relief from all future danger.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I did not give him a thought; his feeble body and innocent look stood him in good stead, as he had invariably banked on. It was only when I came near him and caught the familiar scent, that I knew, and when I saw the marks on his finger I was certain. What's that, Mr. Narkom? What marks? Why, of the Chatterton; and the odour is peculiarly clinging. That is the stuff with which he had joined the flexible electric wire round the picture. Still, I didn't know but what he was an innocent tool of the captain's, until he mentioned that medical book. If you carry your mind back, dear friend, you will remember that he said the captain had taken it from the library. The book was certainly missing from there, but it happened to be in his room, and not the captain's. That's where the point comes in. The rest followed naturally." He looked out as the car turned into the station from whence the London express would whisk them to the metropolis and back into the maelstrom of that evening's pleasure seekers. Lennard and the limousine were to come on at their leisure. Briskly the little party took their places in the train and prepared for a somewhat lengthy journey.
"I think an evening out will do us all good," said Ailsa, presently, with a little sigh, "and Lady Chepstow — Mrs. Hawkesley I mean (somehow, the old title still fits her best), she, I know, will be only too glad of a change. Suppose you come back to dinner, and take us out afterward?"
"The very thing," put in Mr. Narkom briskly. "Berkely Square is, if I remember rightly, on Petrie's beat this week, and I shall feel safer if I know you are under his eye. And, as I have promised myself a night off with Mrs. Narkom " He smiled
