possible for the next two or three hours. Yes, Clavering Close will do. Any place will do so that neither she nor he is within hailing distance of this house when my 'act of violence' is committed. Try to do this if possible, Miss Lorne; more than you dream of hinges upon it. In any case, promise me that no matter what excitement is created you will not venture near the house and will prevail upon them not to do so either. Will you?"
"Yes, certainly I will. And if I tell Geoff that it is your wish, I'm sure I may promise for him as well."
"Thank you. That's all. Now I'll be off about my business. You see"—nodding in the direction of the paddock—"Geoff has persuaded her to sit. Good luck to your little 'singing tour,' and God bless you. Good-bye. This way, Dollops! Move sharp!"
Speaking, he swung off into the darkness, with the boy following close upon his heels, and forged on in the direction of the wall angle, there to wait until his instructions were acted upon and it was time for him to play his last great card.
And lo, as they went, a sweet, soft voice rose in murmuring melody behind them and they could just distinguish the words, "Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking," so softly Ailsa sang them as she passed on in the direction of the paddock stile.
"A good, true woman that, Dollops," said Cleek, pausing to listen. "And there's nothing better in heaven or out of it than a good woman, my lad. Always remember that."
"Yes, sir," said Dollops softly and refraining from further comment.
Cleek laughed to himself as they took the angle path again. "I know the secret of the universe at last, my lad," he said softly. "The way to heaven is through a good woman's eyes!" Then he laughed again, and spoke no more until they were at their journey's end.
"Now, then, my embryo Vidocq," he began, halting in the shadow of the wall angle and laying a gentle hand on Dollops's shoulder, "a word or two with you. I think you told me earlier in the evening that Mr. Narkom had gone back to town, did you not? Did he say if he'd be returning to Wimbledon to-night or not? I fancy he will be likely to, considering his interest in the Claverings, but did he say he would?"
"Yes, sir. Said he'd be back somewheres between nine and ten, sir; that he'd drop in at the police station, and if there was a need for him, he said I'd find him there."
"Right you are! Well, there is a need for him, Dollops; for him and for the limousine, too. So off with you, my boy, and tell him to be here, at this spot, as quickly as he can; and to be ready when I call for him. Now then," said Cleek, opening the wall door, "off with you as fast as you can travel."
For some minutes Cleek stood in deep thought, then he turned and walked quickly back into the house. He had made up his mind to beard Lord St. Ulmer in his room, and his quick brain was intent on a plan by which he should secure an entry. Three minutes later he stood outside the door and placed a bunch of extinguished matches at the foot of it, while he called softly but piercingly.
"Lord St. Ulmer! Quick! Quick! Fire! The place is on fire."
His heart pounded as he waited, for if the man were asleep his efforts would be fruitless. Suddenly, however, there came a faint sound to his straining ears, and again he whispered in that sibilant whisper:
"Lord St. Ulmer, fire!"
He did not have time to repeat it, for there came the sound as of an extremely agile man leaping from his bed, and another moment he heard the snick of an unfastened lock, then the door opened.
Cleek waited not a second, his foot was in the narrow aperture, and he was through the door and had switched on the light before the other man had realized what had happened. Then he gave vent to a little low laugh of triumph as with his back against the closed door he surveyed the white-faced man who had retreated to the middle of the room.
"Good evening! Citizen Paul, good brother Apache, so it is you, is it?" he said airily. "Let us have a quiet little understanding, mon ami. You need not be distressed. There is no fire. It is merely a bluff. What! You do not know me. But wait! Look!" The serene face writhed suddenly, and it was as if another man took his place. "Ever see a chap that looked like this, friend Paul, eh?"
"God! The Cracksman!"
"The identical party!" acknowledged Cleek blandly. "Come! I want to have a few minutes' talk with you, my friend, and—— Stop! Don't back away! Stop and face me. By God! you'll hang for last night's business if you don't!"
CHAPTER THIRTY
NEARING THE TRUTH!
It was one o'clock when Mr. Maverick Narkom, pacing uneasily up and down the narrow strip of turf just outside the boundary wall of Wuthering Grange, saw the door at the wall angle flash open and shut again, and without so much as a murmur of sound looked up to find Cleek standing within a few paces of him.
"My dear fellow! Gad, I never was so glad to see anybody in all my days," exclaimed the superintendent, swooping down on him in a little whirlwind of excitement. "Cinnamon! You'll never guess what's happened, Cleek, never! After all my instructions, those blundering idiots of local police were too late to catch Margot and her crew at Wimbledon, the house where young Raynor visited, as you wrote me. I went down myself directly Dollops brought me your note, but it was too late, the police had frightened her in some way——"
"It does not matter," said Cleek calmly. "I have come to the end of the riddle."
"The end?" gasped Mr. Narkom. "The end! Man alive, tell me who——"
"Patience, my friend; perhaps I ought not to have said that yet, some few things remain to be discovered, but the first thing to do is to carry out the murderer's message before it is too late, or the letters get into the wrong hands."
"Whose letters?" exclaimed Mr. Narkom, naturally bewildered.
"The woman who lured Count de Louvisan, though that is not his name, to his death, Lady Clavering——"
"Lady Clav—— Heavens, man, what possible motive could she have?"
"We shall see, my friend, if my ideas are right. Call up Lennard and the limousine and let us go down to the cottage. With one more thread in my hand, and then to-night will see the knot unravelled."
With this Mr. Narkom was fain to be content, and once in the car, the few minutes that elapsed before they reached Gleer Cottage were passed in silence. At the gate, when the limousine drew up, Cleek aroused himself from his reverie.
"Mr. Narkom, get the constables stationed on duty near that room out of the way. Put them outside somewhere where they won't be able to see or hear what goes on at the back of the house. Then make an excuse of having to examine the body in reference to some new evidence that's just cropped up. I'll join you there in one minute."
Mr. Narkom gave a nod of comprehension and vanished up the path, leaving his great ally to carry out his plans in his own inimitable fashion.
That was the last the superintendent saw of him until full twenty minutes later when, with his customary soundlessness, he came up out of the gloom of the neglected garden, entered the rear door of the cottage, and joined him in the room where the body of the dead man still hung, spiked to the wall, with knees bent, head lolling,
