that night during dinner, his first meal at carmel abbey, in the brief intervals of chatting with his charming and vivacious neighbor, a miss patricia howard, larose philosophically considered whether the possession of ample means was to be desired above most things, and he came to the conclusion most definitely that it was.

“it is all nonsense,” he reflected, “for people of no means to keep on repeating like parrots that money isn’t everything, as if it were no good at all, because we get nearly all our happiness from what money brings, and without it we are poor things and have a rotten time.”

he looked round the room and sighed with great contentment. “now, tonight is typical of what money can give! here am i in the most comfortable surroundings possible, with every opportunity to snatch a most perfect hour from the sadness of this vale of tears. i am banqueting in the company of distinguished-looking men and beautiful looking women, and everything about me is conducive to comfort and happiness. the food is delicious enough to satisfy the most exacting taste, the wines are a very nectar of the gods, the room is as beautiful as that of any medieval church and i am being waited upon as if i had been crowned a king.” he nodded emphatically. “yes, it is good to be alive to-night.”

he went on. “and this delightfully pretty young woman who was consigned to me to escort into the meal and the gleam of whose white shoulders is so disturbing to me every time i turn my head — well, she is very gracious to me and smiles and shows her dimples whenever i speak. she is wishing, of course, that i should form a good opinion of her and she continually droops those pretty lashes for me and flashes at me with those violet eyes. but undoubtedly she does all this because she assumes that i am of her own class in wealth and position.” he shook his head sadly. “now if she knew who i really was, and the exact figures of my very modest banking account, then — good gracious! — there would he no more dimples for me, no more pretty smiles and those white, gleaming shoulders would surely stiffen up and lose all their friendly pose.” he drew in a deep breath. “yes, money is a wonderful thing to have.”

he looked round the large and sumptuously furnished room again. “and how perfect the service is here, and how beautifully the harmony of everything has been fitted in! those maids in their dainty uniforms are as pretty as butterflies themselves, and there is not one of them who is not good to look upon. why, endowed with high sounding names and a bit of money, as far as appearances go, they could any moment with equal distinction take their places among the guests! and the footmen! quite refined and certainly the best type of their class! they glide rather than walk and their bearing is courtly, as if they had acquired grace by attending to the wants of emperors and kings.”

he smiled. “and the butler! ah! i must not forget him. he certainly does not seem to do much, except stand behind his mistress’s chair, but i note his head is continually turning round and round, with his eyes everywhere upon the menials whom he controls. he is like a great general, directing a field of battle, and the men-servants advance and retreat, and go this way and that, upon the slightest movement of his eye.” he nodded. “yes, no doubt he is among the great masters of his calling.”

he looked towards the head of the table. “and lady ardane herself! the mistress of it all. she is certainly lovely to-night and her beauty outshines that of all the other women here. the soft candle lights are poor rivals to that red head of hers and their timid rays show up the ivory of her skin to the perfection of a lover’s dream.” he sighed once more. “yes, she is very lovely, but what good is all that loveliness if she will give it to no one to delight in? is all the romance of her life closed and will she never in abandon again ——”

but his reflections were suddenly broken into by the silvery voice of his partner.

“mr. maxwell!” exclaimed that young lady with a great assumption of indignation, “i have spoken to you and you did not answer! i do believe you were looking at the maids.”

“no, no,” replied larose instantly. “i was just thinking how beautiful our hostess is to-night.”

“she is always beautiful,” commented the girl sharply. she tilted up her chin mockingly. “and i don’t believe there’s a man here, married or unmarried, who would not run off with her tomorrow, if he could only get the chance.”

“good gracious!” exclaimed larose, “but is she as devastating as all that?”

“quite,” replied the girl laughing. “why, look at the reverence with which the great sir arnold is regarding her, and by nature he is as cold as a fish.”

“which is sir arnold!” asked larose at once.

“oh! i forgot,” exclaimed the girl. “of course, you don’t know us all yet.” she nodded. “sir arnold medway is that very handsome man talking to her now. he is one of the great surgeons of the world, and royalty are among his patients.” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “he is supposed to have received seventy thousand guineas last year for going over to india to operate upon that rajah’s wife. but isn’t he distinguished looking?”

larose regarded the fine, strong face of the man she indicated and agreed that he was, for not only, the detective thought, was the great surgeon handsome, but his whole demeanor suggested that in whatever walk of life he was, he would excel.

the girl went on. “come now, i’ll be nice to you and tell you everything about everybody you want to know.”

“well, that dark man,” asked larose at once, “right opposite to us, with the girl in pink? mr. daller is, i think, his name. who is he?”

“the bernard daller, the air-man,” was the reply, “and a dare-devil if ever there was one. he’s crashed more times than anyone knows, and he still carries on as if he liked it.” she smiled archly. “another devoted slave at the foot of helen ardane.”

“and that man with the big glasses, who is always smiling,” asked larose, “the one with the bald head?”

“sir parry bardell, and helen’s greatest friend,” replied the girl. “he lives close near here, just across the meadows. founded the bardell line of steamers and used to own them all. retired now, and a most eligible bachelor in spite of the absence of raven locks.” she pretended to look very sad. “i set my cap at him every time we meet, but it’s quite hopeless for he’d marry no one but”— she sighed —“helen again.” she turned smilingly to the detective. “but he seems rather interested in you, for i’ve noticed him look this way several times.”

“at you, of course,” smiled back larose, “and i can quite understand it, for except for being able to talk to you, i’d rather sit opposite to you every time.”

“quite nice of you, i am sure,” laughed the girl. “now, is there anyone else you are curious about?”

“yes, that tall, big man, a friend of senator harvey, i believe.”

the girl shook her head. “i know very little about him,” she replied, “except that he’s an american and his name is rankin, theodore rankin. he only arrived yesterday. he’s a wheat fiend, i think, for he comes from chicago, and was arguing about crops and prices all the morning with the senator.”

“another person,” said larose, “that bronzed man over there upon the left? i haven’t noticed him until dinner to-night.”

“clive huntington, a naval engineer. he’s a friend of sir parry, who, of course, has only come in for the evening. still you’ll be seeing a lot of sir parry for he is always in and out of the abbey, looking after the affairs of the estate.”

“is there a lot then to look after?” asked larose.

“good gracious, yes!” exclaimed the girl, opening her eyes very wide. “why, helen rules over more than ten thousand acres, and all the villages round here belong to her.”

miss howard was a very intelligent and observant young woman, and by the time the meal was over the detective was in the possession of many facts that would otherwise have taken a long time to collect. she gave him thumb-nail sketches of almost everybody there, and her comments, he thought, were shrewd and very much to the point.

the evening was passed with music and bridge, and, in view of the shoot upon the morrow, the company dispersed early and by midnight everybody had retired to their rooms.

but it was not bed-time for larose yet, for at twenty minutes after midnight he was to have a talk with lady ardane in her boudoir, which was next to his own room. she was going to tap upon the wall when she judged it would be safe for him to come in.

he was not too pleased somehow with lady ardane, for her manner towards him when they had been enabled to have two words together had been stiff and formal, and as icily cold as if he were a complete stranger and it were necessary for him to be kept at a distance.

he had been formally introduced to her in the lounge, in front of them all, by the very casual and off-hand lestrange, and she had received him graciously and hoped he would enjoy his stay at the abbey, but then, when a few moments later, he had spoken to her when no one was close near, she had informed him in the manner of a mistress speaking to her servant, and a female one at that, that she had arranged for his room to be next to her suite, in case she should require his services. then when he had said that he wanted to have a talk with her and would need to know in which particular room everyone was sleeping, she had told him as if she were speaking to a block of wood to come to her’s after midnight.

yes, he was annoyed with her, for her manner was so off-hand, and as if she were quite oblivious to the services he had already rendered her.

he sat before the radiator and considering everything, notwithstanding his usual buoyancy of disposition, was in no very cheerful frame of mind.

“yes, i am being handicapped in many ways here,” he told himself, “for apparently i am to ask no questions of anyone. as a guest myself, i cannot, of course, talk to the servants, and my fellow guests are undoubtedly intending to ignore the fact that there is any shadow over the abbey, and hold it bad taste to want to discuss it. that charming miss howard shut me up at once when i referred to it, and the old admiral almost pretended to know nothing about it when i started to ask him about what had taken place that afternoon upon the brancaster sands.”

he shook his head frowningly. “now there is something most sinister about this whole business, for it must be that the arch-traitor lies near home and when i uncover him i shall probably find he is no stranger to this poor woman whom he is terrifying. indeed, he must be on intimate terms with her, for if there be any truth in the second warning she has received, his influence is such that he has actually been able to arrange for an ally to be received here as another guest.” he thought for a moment. “then he must be the master-mind directing the whole conspiracy, for it is not likely that anyone in the position of an intimate friend of the family here would be the paid tool of a professional gang outside.”

he rose to his feet and paced softly up and down the room. “but if the conspiracy originated here and its master-mind has been here all along, then surely the solution of the problem should be very easy, for only five of the men whom i saw to-night at dinner were here at the time of that attempt to kidnap the child, admiral charters, sir arnold medway, lord wonnock, sir parry bardell and senator harvey.” he whistled softly. “ah! senator harvey, the most inconceivable of them all and yet ——”

he was silent for a long while. “and this second conspirator among the newcomers, who then is he? is he the airman, daller; rankin, the american, the friend of the senator, or clive huntington, the friend of sir parry?”

he went on. “and where did this gang spring from, this gang which we know for certain must consist of, at least, six men? was it called specially into existence to kidnap the ardane child, or did it exist before, and were its energies simply diverted from other nefarious projects to this?”

he nodded emphatically. “yes, yes, it certainly existed before, and i must therefore consider who here would have been most likely to have been able to get in touch with it.”

but suddenly he heard a muffled tap upon the wall, and at once switching off his radiator, he tiptoed to the door and passed out into the corridor. it was only a few steps to lady ardane’s boudoir, and he could see a faint light under the door. he drummed softly with his finger-nails and the door yielded noiselessly to his touch and he stepped into the room, closing the door again as noiselessly behind him.

the boudoir was half in shadow, for the only light was that of a cowled reading-lamp upon the desk. the door leading to the bedroom was pulled to, but not shut. lady ardane put her finger to her lips. “speak quietly,” she ordered, “for my son is very restless to-night.” she was standing by the desk, and beckoning the detective to approach, did not, however, invite him to sit down.

“well, did you see those men?” she went on sharply.

“yes, i saw them and spoke to two of them,” replied larose, “but that was all. they stopped me and i did not get near their car.”

“then you did no good,” she said almost as if she were annoyed.

“no,” said the detective, “except that i should recognise one of them again. they threatened me with a pistol and i could do nothing with that pointed against my chest. i tell you these are desperate men, who came after you last night.” he was nettled by her manner and went on, speaking as sharply as she had spoken. “now, i want to know about that telephone wire, please. i heard in norwich this morning that it had been cut.”

“yes, it was cut,” she said, “and there have been two detectives here nearly all day, questioning the servants about it.” she bit upon her lip. “the publicity is dreadful.”

“it was cut by the main door, i understand,” said larose.

she nodded. “someone fetched a ladder from the garage, when dinner was being served, and cut the wires, ten feet up. he put the ladder back after he had used it, but the detectives saw the gravel marks upon it. they say he must know all the arrangements of the house, and are certain it must be one of the servants”— she shook her head —“but whatever they think, that is impossible, for the movements of all the men can be accounted for at the time it must have been cut.” she bit upon her lip again. “it is a terrible thought to know that i have such an enemy here.”

“but it mayn’t have been a man,” suggested larose. “it may perhaps have been a woman.”

lady ardane shook her head. “no, it is a heavy ladder, twelve feet in length, and it must have been a man.”

“and how do you know it was done during dinner?” asked the detective.

“because senator harvey rang up the chemist just before dinner, at a quarter to eight, and at a quarter to nine, when i went to ring up the exchange, it was dead.”

a short silence followed and then larose said quietly, “well, now i shall have to ask you some questions that you may not like, but the situation in my opinion is so grave that i cannot allow any feelings of sentiment to hamper me in my work.”

“feelings of sentiment!” exclaimed lady ardane quickly, as if she had not heard aright. “what on earth do you mean?” she spoke angrily, and it was evident to larose that her nerves were all on edge. “what, pray, has any sentiment to do with what you are here for?”

“oh! you’ll understand what i mean in a minute,” replied the detective. “now, please tell me at exactly what time they went into dinner last night.”

“at a quarter to eight,” was the frowning reply. “they had waited a quarter of an hour for me and then, as i had told my aunt, mrs. chalmers, i might be delayed, she gave orders for dinner to be served.”

“and who were actually present at the meal?” asked larose.

lady ardane considered. “my aunt, mrs. chalmers, mrs. challans, miss howard, miss montgomery, lord and lady wonnock and sir arnold medway. it was a small party because senator harvey was indisposed and admiral charters had gone to bed with a bad cold.”

“a bad cold!” exclaimed larose. “he was lively enough to-night.”

“but he thought he was sickening for one and he’s always nervous about his health. as a matter of fact, he sent for sir arnold in the middle of dinner to go up and see him.”

a moment’s silence followed, and then larose said grimly, “now for the sentiment, your ladyship.” he paused for a moment, and regarding her intently, asked quickly, “are you on good terms with your step-father?”

lady ardane returned his intent gaze. “certainly,” she replied haughtily.

“and you always have been?”

“always.”

“well,” said larose, “and please don’t get angry now, is there any insanity in senator harvey’s family?”

lady ardane drew in a deep breath and looked furious. “what do you mean?” she gasped. “are you out of your mind yourself?”

the detective looked very uncomfortable. “lady ardane,” he said firmly, “it will be a dreadful thought for you but it must be one of only five people who has all along been your enemy in this house, for if we leave out the servants, there have only been five persons here in a position to betray you as you have been betrayed — senator harvey, lord wonnock, sir arnold medway, admiral charters and sir parry bardell. they alone were present here before the beginning of this trouble, and if we rule out the motives of ransom and revenge, then it can be only insanity that has urged one of them on to attempt this dreadful wrong.” he raised one hand in his earnestness. “think — if mr. jones is right, and from the notes that he has given me i am inclined to believe that he is, and none of the servants are involved, then who else but one of the five i have mentioned can have been the one who is helping these wretches outside.”

“but it is impossible!” gasped lady ardane. “all these gentlemen you mention are proved friends of mine. they are dear friends of long standing and every one of them would give his life for me.” she gasped again. “my step-father, above all people, for he has been the same as if he were my own parent, from my childhood’s days! good heavens! what suspicion have you against him?”

“you tell me he was not at dinner last night,” replied larose grimly “you say the ladder was used by a man, you are sure all the men servants are accounted for”— he shrugged his shoulders —“well, however improbable, i must consider everyone, one by one.”

lady ardane made no comment. she had sunk down into an armchair and was lying back as if all the spirit had been taken out of her.

the detective went on, but speaking now with great sympathy, “come, your ladyship, just answer my question without any comment, and then we’ll soon be finished with the unpleasant part. now, no insanity in the senator’s family? none at all? well, tell me about admiral charters — none there either? and how long have you known the admiral?”

“since my marriage.” was the low reply, “but my husband had known him since his boyhood.”

“and he is a man of substance, in no need of money?”

then larose dragged out of her all she could tell him of her guests, and among other things that the admiral was wealthy and one of the directors of lloyds bank, that lord wonnock was a rich north country iron magnate and a pillar of finance in the city and that sir arnold medway’s income must run into many thousands of pounds.

“and now for the last of them,” said the detective, “this sir parry bardell who has had his eyes upon me the whole of the evening.”

“the life-long friend of my husband,” replied lady ardane weakly, “and my greatest friend, too. he has the affection for me of a father.” a little of her spirit began to come back and she laughed scornfully. “you may as well suspect me myself.”

the detective frowned in disappointment. everywhere he seemed to be up against a dead wall. he proceeded to try in another direction now.

“and this second enemy,” he asked, “this newcomer who, according to your last warning, was to join up among the shooting party to help enemy number one. tell me, please, about the later arrivals, and particularly about mr. daller and mr. huntington, for either of these gentlemen might perhaps fill the bill.”

“thank you, mr. larose,” said lady ardane with icy politeness, “for mr. daller is a particular friend of mine and has stayed here several times and upon more occasions than i remember has flown me to paris and the south of france. as for mr. huntington, he certainly is a stranger to us all here, but as he has been in sir parry’s service on his vessels ever since he was a boy and is a personal friend of sir parry, too, that speaks for itself.”

then for half an hour and longer, larose questioned her, and before he had finished, every one of her guests had been passed under review.

a short silence followed and the detective said thoughtfully, “then as far as i can see, it all amounts to this. your guests are all of impeccable character, your servants are all above suspicion”— he smiled dryly —“and yet there is someone here, as callous and pitiless a malefactor as you would find anywhere in the world of crime.” he regarded her curiously. “but surely, lady ardane, you must be suspicious of someone yourself. you know the traitor must be among those we have been talking about, and in your own mind you must have had doubts about someone.”

instantly lady ardane’s face fell and the spirit seemed to go out of her again. the lines of her body lost all pose of self-reliance and she looked the very picture of distress.

“i have no suspicions, mr. larose,” she whispered piteously, “for i can by no possibility conceive of anyone willing to do me this wrong. i know with you that someone here is my enemy and that he is only biding his chance to strike another blow, but thinking it over night and day — and i am always thinking of it — i have no suspicions of anyone, no distrust at all.”

“never mind,” said the detective gently, touched by her distress, “we’ll find him sooner or later, and at any rate they shan’t get your child whilst i am here.” he shook his head slowly. “but you know, with all these people to watch, i think that in many ways it would have been better if i had come down here in my official capacity, for then i could have gone openly everywhere, and asked questions where i wanted to. as it is, although my anonymity certainly has its advantages, it hampers my search in too many ways.”

“but that will remedy itself,” said lady ardane with the ghost of a smile, “for if mr. jones is right, they will soon find out who you are, and then you will be able to have a free hand.”

“with a bullet inside me, perhaps,” commented larose grimly, “for that seems to be how their discoveries of identities becomes known.”

“but when they found that mr. jones was here,” asked lady ardane plaintively, “why did they try to injure him? and why did they try to cause a fearful accident to the car that was bringing out those men from hunstanton? why did they want to let me know they were up to every move i was making to protect my son?”

“probably only frightfulness,” replied the detective promptly, “just to make you realise that they don’t mind to what extremes they go, so that if they get either you or the child in their clutches, you will be so terrified that you will come to terms with them at once.” his face frightened. “still, they’ve not got either of you yet and we’re not beaten by a long chalk. now, please, give me the numbers of the bedrooms where everyone sleeps and i’ll get to work at once.”

back in his own room the detective went carefully through the list she had given him, and his face lost a little of its worried expression.

“now, if there’s any reliance to be placed on human nature,” he whispered, “the boss of this conspiracy will want to have a talk to-night with his new hand, when he thinks everybody is asleep, so i’ll just mark all their doors and in the morning see who have left their rooms during the night.”

he crept out into the corridor and, one by one, low down upon the jambs of every door of the men guests affixed a minute piece of plasticine. then he returned to his own room and setting his mind to awake before dawn, threw himself upon his bed to try and snatch a few hours’ sleep.

but he need not have worried about waking up in time, for his sleep was very troubled, and half a dozen times, at least, he stirred himself to look at his watch.

then a few minutes before five he got off the bed and made his way into the corridor again to examine the traps that he had set, and he frowned in great perplexity when he saw what had happened.

one, two, three, four doors had been opened during the night, those of the senator, the american, rankin, daller, the airman, and that of the handsome and debonair naval engineer, clive huntington.

“great james!” he exclaimed, when he was back again in his own room, “but can half the gang be here? now, what the devil were all these people after, moving about in the night?”

at breakfast time it was pouring with rain, and it looked highly improbable that there would be any going out that day, so following upon the meal, the party proceeded to amuse themselves in their own particular ways. the detective joined senator harvey, mr. rankin and sir parry bardell in the library, and for an hour and more they discussed everything in general.

finally, the detective came away very disappointed, for none of the three, he had reluctantly to confess to himself, exhibited the slightest signs that they would for one moment be mixed up in any criminal conspiracy.

sir parry was just a quiet gentleman, with courtly, early victorian manners. he was charming to talk to, and was so unassuming that, with all the undoubted strength and character in his face, the detective found it difficult to associate him with the authority he must have wielded to have gained the outstanding success in commercial life that he had.

theodore rankin was apparently nothing other than a shrewd, level-headed business man, most patently anxious to enjoy himself among the historic surroundings of the abbey, but all the time chafing under his enforced absence from his beloved chicago.

senator harvey, the detective did not like very much, for the stepfather of lady ardane was inclined to be haughty, and distant in his manner and several times larose had caught him frowning in his direction, as if he were not too pleased that he, larose, was there.

“a stuck-up man,” was the detective’s comment, “and as i have no title or ancestors that he knows of, then i suppose i am not good enough for him.” he shook his head. “still, he doesn’t look a man who’d be mixed up with a gang.”

leaving them still talking in the library, and with a certain project in his mind, the detective obtained a small pair of binoculars from his room and made his way along the long corridors towards the old belfry. he knew how to reach it without going outside the abbey from the plan lady ardane had given him, and he was minded to get some idea of the surrounding country from its tower.

“for it is just possible,” he told himself, “if they do not use the telephone and yet are able to communicate so quickly with one another, that they are resorting to some kind of signaling, and if they do, then the high tower of the belfry would be the very place.”

he soon arrived at the door shutting off the modern part of the abbey from that which had been left almost untouched, and started to mount the steps of the tower. he reached the big room where the bells had once been and was negotiating the ladder that led to the little room of the tower above, when he suddenly became aware that there was someone already up there, for he heard the sounds of feet shuffling upon the wooden floor and then a loud cough.

“hullo! hullo!” he ejaculated, “now who on earth can have come up here, and what does he want?”

a few steps higher and with his head now level with the floor of the room, his eyes fell upon a man, with his feet planted wide, leaning out across the broad sill of one of the windows looking seawards, and peering intently through a pair of large glasses. the man was holding an unfolded handkerchief in his hand.

for a few seconds, not being able to see his face, the detective did not determine who the man was, but then from his broad shoulders and the general outline of his figure, he knew him to be admiral charters.

the admiral had not heard him, and larose waited longer than a minute to see what he was going to do with the handkerchief, but then, nothing happened, and not wishing to run the risk of being caught watching so intently, he coughed in his turn, and climbed up into the room.

but the admiral was still so engrossed with his observations that it was not until the detective was almost up to him and he had probably then been disturbed by the shaking of the very ancient floor-boards, that he turned with a start and, open-mouthed in his surprise, surveyed larose with all the consternation of a child who had been caught in a guilty action.

“by jove!” he exclaimed, very red in the face, “but you gave me a shock. i’ve never known anybody else come up here before.”

“you haven’t?” remarked larose carelessly. “well, i just came up to have a look at the view, although it’s certainly a bad day for it.”

“you’re right there,” agreed the admiral, and now furtively stuffing the handkerchief back into his pocket, “but i came up to have a peep at those destroyers. they’re making heavy weather and it reminds me of my own bad days upon the sea.”

larose advanced to the window and putting his own glasses up, swept them quickly round in the hope of noticing something of more interest than the destroyers the admiral had pointed out. he was realising with a little quickening of his heart how admirably the situation, not only of the belfry tower, but of the whole abbey itself, would lend itself to the exchange of signals with anyone outside, for the historic building was on slightly rising ground, and the view of a dozen and more habitations across the meadows and over the marshlands was clear and uninterrupted in the direction of the sea.

he scanned quickly over every house in sight, but except for a woman leading a saddled horse into a stable of one of them, about a mile away, there were no signs of life to be seen anywhere. he turned sharply and caught the admiral looking at him in a peculiar manner. the old man at once began to talk very quickly.

“most interesting country this,” he said boisterously, “because of its association with anglo–saxon times. all along the coast every place has got its little bit of history. now you see that hut there across the marshes, overy marshes they’re called, well, it’s on the site of an old danish camp that is more than a thousand years old.”

“no one lives there, of course,” said the detective.

“oh, yes, but someone does,” replied the admiral. “old henrik, the fisherman, has been there years and years, and that’s his boat upon the foreshore. funnily enough, he’s a dane himself and he’s got quite a romantic history. he was master of his own ship once and it was wrecked here more than thirty years ago, when he was quite a young man. he was the only survivor. he lost everything and his wife was drowned. he went half out of his mind, they say, and they couldn’t get him away from the spot so they subscribed and bought him an old boat and he’s been there ever since. a darned good fisherman, but he wears his hair long and is supposed never to have a wash. he brings his fish up to the abbey sometimes.”

“and those other houses on the shore,” asked the detective, “they look very dilapidated, are they inhabited?”

“some of them are,” replied the admiral, “but most are empty.” he pointed with his arm again. “but i notice two men have lately come to that stone one nearest the camp. they are the usual sporting chaps, i suppose, and have come after the wild duck.” he laughed. “they’re deuced early if that’s their game, for the duck won’t be here in any number for some weeks yet.”

“oh!” exclaimed the detective, interested at once, “then how long have those men been there?”

the admiral considered. “about a month, i should say. i’ve been staying here now for seven weeks and i didn’t notice them at first.” he smiled and pointed to a quantity of cigarette butts upon the floor. “i’m often up here for an old sea-dog can’t keep his eye very long away from the sea. hullo!” he went on, looking out of the window again, “here comes sir parry out in the rain.” he laughed. “there are two things that occupy sir parry’s mind. his big telescope and our gracious lady ardane, and i almost think that the telescope comes first.”

“that’s his house then with the long windows at the top,” commented larose, pointing to a high pagoda-like structure about half a mile away. “what a queer-looking place for a wealthy man, as he is said to be!”

“yes, but he’s a bachelor and lives there all by himself,” said the admiral.

“what! no servants,” exclaimed larose,

“oh! yes, two,” was the reply, “but they live in another building, a hundred yards and more away behind those trees. he won’t have them sleeping in the house. one’s almost stone deaf and the other is a deaf-mute.” the admiral chuckled. “sir parry’s quite a woman-hater except for lady ardane.”

for half an hour and more larose remained up in the tower, and when ultimately the two descended together he had almost as good an idea of the surrounding country as if he had tramped it on foot. the admiral had been coming to the abbey for several years and there was not a village that he did not know something about, or a creek with which he was not familiar. he chatted so openly, too, about everything, that although the detective was certain he had not come up there solely to look at those destroyers, and also that the matter of the handkerchief was suspicious, still he could hardly bring himself to believe that the old man was one of the plotters.

returning into the abbey and parting with the admiral, larose came upon lestrange, alone in the library. the barrister was reading, and after a quick look at the detective, lowered his eyes again upon his book, but larose went up to him and said quietly:—

“anyone been curious about me?”

lestrange favored him with a cold stare. “what do you mean?” he asked. his lips curved to a contemptuous smile. “people in our class, mr. larose, do not display their curiosity about fellow guests, whatever may be their private thoughts.”

“oh!” exclaimed the detective in no way abashed, “then no one has asked you anything particular about me?”

“no,” was the reply with a cold smile, “and no one has even mentioned your cigarette case.”

proceeding into the lounge, the detective, under the pretence of warming himself before the fire, drew up a chair close to the airman and clive huntington, who were talking earnestly together, and he noted they abruptly broke off their conversation as he did so. also, the airman frowned slightly, as if he were annoyed at their being disturbed.

however, clive huntington at once began to ask larose about australia, informing him that he had twice been there himself. the young naval engineer had very nice manners, and as the detective regarded his open and handsome face, he thought with a pang that it would be very hard to associate so pleasing a personality with any form of heartless crime.

but of bernard daller he did not form quite so good an opinion. he was good-looking certainly, and no one could deny the atmosphere of courage and capacity that surrounded him, but still, the detective thought him to be just the type of man who would be disposed to take risks other than those in the air, and risks, too, that might be of a very questionable nature. certainly he was a cold gambler, for the previous night at bridge he had been wanting to play for higher stakes than were agreeable to any of the others.

they chatted for a few minutes and then the senator and his friend, rankin, came and joined them, and the detective realised suddenly with a start that all the four men who had left their rooms during the night were now gathered round him, and for some reason they were all undoubtedly interested and curious about him.

daller continued to eye him frowningly, huntington never wanted to leave him long out of the conversation, the senator was taking good note of everything he said and putting in a searching question every now and then, and the large, placid eyes of the american were always turned upon him.

presently he took out his cigarette case and passed it round, and rankin, being the last one to handle it, after he had taken out a cigarette, continued for a few moments to interestedly examine the case.

“my!” he exclaimed, “that’s pretty.” he held it up for the brilliants to catch the light, and then added as he passed it back —“but when you’ve had it a little while, you’ll find it’ll show the scratches badly. that high carat gold always does.”

larose flushed with annoyance. he had played a bad card, for this shrewd-looking man had dismissed with a word all pretension that a seventy-five guinea cigarette case formed part of his, larose’s, daily life.

and then, all at once, as if to compensate for his discomfiture, he became positive that he was now the centre of a little comedy in which two sets of players, both upon their own, were trying to find out all about him; the senator and rankin on the one hand and the airman and clive huntington upon the other, with the curiosity in both cases being shared by the respective partners.

that they were all trying to turn him inside out he was certain, for whenever the senator asked him a question about his life in australia, rankin immediately supplemented it with a further one, and whenever daller, who had now thrown off his frown and was all amiability, wanted to be informed about something, huntington invariably chipped in for a more detailed form of reply.

it was exactly, he thought, as it they were all doubtful if he were what he was making himself out to be and were putting him well through the ‘once over,’ and he wondered with a grin, which, however, he instantly suppressed, if he did not come too well out of the ordeal, from which of the two parties he would be receiving a bullet in due course of time.

and he certainly would have been highly gratified with himself if he had heard the remark that the airman made to clive huntington as later on they were all trooping into lunch.

“i don’t quite understand that fellow,” said that dashing gentleman quietly. “he’s altogether too plausible and innocent for a man with those eyes and that facial angle.”

after lunch the weather began to clear up a little and someone suggested that they should go for a blow by the sea.

“oh! yes, do let us go,” exclaimed patricia howard with animation. “let’s go over to holkham bay and see if old henrik has caught any fish.”

“yes,” supplemented sir arnold medway, “and i ought to have a look and see how the old chap’s hand is getting on.”

so, soon after three, five car-loads of the guests, along with lady ardane and the little baronet, proceeded in the direction suggested, the detective being in the car driven by the great surgeon and containing miss howard, mrs. charters and the very affable rankin.

the girl was full of energy and talk, and for the benefit of larose and the american gave them full details of the romantic history of the lonely fisherman at the hut upon the danish camp.

“and he’s never been really right since,” she added, “for he’s like a child in many ways and even after these thirty years has only picked up a few words of english. he understands what you say but cannot answer back.”

their short journey was soon over and their cars were parked upon the sands of holkham bay. there was no sign of old henrik or his boat, however, and proceeding to his hut, as they expected, they found it empty.

“but look what a place to live in,” said lady ardane, “for over thirty years. no comforts and not even the bare necessities of life, and yet he appears quite happy.”

and certainly there could not be much comfort about the hut, for it contained no furniture of any description. empty boxes formed the table and chair of the old man, and where he kept his few battered and dilapidated cooking utensils. in one corner there were a quantity of old sacks, and scattered about everywhere were his lobster pots and nets. a number of empty bottles were heaped in a corner.

“and those are the great consolation of his life, ladies and gentlemen,” said sir arnold with a smile. “rum, just rum, for i am sorry to say our friend often gets very drunk. he half severed one of his fingers a couple of weeks or so ago, when he was in that condition, and it was quite accidentally that i noticed his injury and gave him some treatment the other day.”

returning on to the sands, they passed within a hundred yards of the stone house admiral charters had pointed out to larose that morning as being now the dwelling-place of two newcomers to the marsh, and the detective had a good look at it as they went by. smoke was rising from one of the chimneys and he was half-minded to go up for a closer inspection and even to make some excuse and obtain word with anyone there, but he thought better of it, determining to make a secret investigation later on.

arriving upon the seashore, the little party became aware of a boat just coming round a spit of sand that jutted out into the sea, and it was immediately seen to be that of henrik.

they waited for him to pull in, and as soon as the boat grounded the old man sprang out, and seeing lady ardane among the little group awaiting him, shouted eagerly. “bacco, bacco, me have good fish.”

he was certainly a most disreputable looking old fellow, tall and gaunt and with cadaverous features, hollow cheeks and toothless gums. his hair was long and matted and drooped over his face and almost down to his shoulders. around the fingers of one hand was tied a filthy rag.

“and he was said to be very handsome once,” said miss howard with a grimace of disgust, “and see him now.”

“let’s have a look at your hand, henrik,” said the great surgeon firmly, “and not a cigarette until i’ve attended to it. come up to the car. i’ve got a fresh bandage there.”

the hand was rebandaged, and from the fish in the boat lady ardane pointed out which she wished to take.

“but put them in a bag, please, henrik,” she said, “and be quick about it because it’s going to pour with rain in a minute,” and with the sweeping up of a threatening cloud from over the sea, they all hurried back towards the cars.

the old man, shouldering his basket of fish, disappeared into his hut, to emerge again, however, very quickly with the selected fish in a small sugar bag.

the ladies of the party had already seated themselves in the cars, but some of the men were still standing about to finish their cigarettes. henrik tied the bag of fish on to the luggage grid of sir arnold’s car, and with the rain beginning to fall in real earnest now, everyone proceeded to take their places.

it happened that larose and the airman were the last two to make for their respective cars and the detective, a few paces behind the latter, suddenly became aware that someone was pulling at his sleeve.

he turned and saw it was the old fisherman. at first he thought henrik was begging for a tip, and he was putting his hand into his pocket to find a sixpence, when henrik all at once screwed up his face in a peculiar manner and with his damaged hand pointing furtively to the airman, whispered hoarsely, “smuggler — watch.” then as miss howard called out shrilly, “come on, please, mr. maxwell, the rain is blowing in the door,” the amazed detective would have sworn that the sunken lips of the old fisherman framed the word “dope.”

for the moment the detective was too astounded to take in what had happened, but then, quickly recovering his wits, he put out a hand to lay hold of henrik and ask him what he meant. the old man, however, avoided his grasp and with an amused chuckle as a good-bye, proceeded to shuffle quickly off to his hut.

then, miss howard calling out again for him to come, and the rain now beginning to fall in sheets, the detective, as puzzled as he had ever been in his life, jumped into the car and seated himself beside her.