it was an hour and longer, after larose had tucked himself into bed, before sleep at last came to him.

he had thrown off his clothes on the full determination that it should be only a matter of minutes before he would be in the land of forgetfulness, and dead to all his troubles.

he relaxed his limbs peacefully, drew in slow, deep breaths, and tried to imagine he was falling from a great height. he turned his tightly-closed eyes upwards and inwards, and he fell, fell, fell into unfathomable depths.

but it was all to no purpose, for his mind was much too active, and would keep on reverting to the perplexities he was in.

why had lady ardane gone into the grounds during the night? why had she agreed that the belongings of no one should be searched? why had the senator been against it too? was it really possible that it was not the american whom he had seen go through the cloister door? why had admiral charters lied about the handkerchief? what had daller and huntington to hide, and why had they lied too?

he shook his head angrily. of course these last two were old acquaintances! he had been struck with their easy and intimate attitudes towards each other, the very first night when they had arrived, and he had noted that always when they were together their voices were lowered as if all they were saying was of a private and confidential nature.

and who, then, was the man who had been standing on the box and — but at last the detective succeeded in falling over his favorite precipice and sleep overtook him.

but the worry and tossing about had played havoc with his subconscious willpower, and instead of waking up, as he had intended, at half-past six, it was nearly an hour later before he opened his eyes.

he was intensely annoyed, for, arranging with lady ardane that henceforth he should have all his meals in the housekeeper’s room, the latter lady had informed him that 7.30 was the breakfast time with her.

he had mapped out, too, such a busy programme for the day, for, notwithstanding he had a most profound faith in the acumen of naughton jones, he was going yet again over all the latter’s ground, and intending to pass under review every employee in the abbey.

he made his toilet hurriedly and proceeded with all speed to the housekeeper’s room, to find, however, as he had expected, that the housekeeper and polkinghorne, the butler, had already started the meal. they both rose at once upon his entrance, and polkinghorne looked very nervous. it was evident that the latter did not relish sitting now at table with one whose wants he had been so recently attending to, among lady ardane’s distinguished guests.

polkinghorne was a portly man, about 50 years of age, heavy of feature, and with big, grey ox-like eves, and the traditional side-whiskers of followers of his calling. beside him, upon another chair, sat a beautiful persian cat, looking very smart in a bright red collar to which was attached a large silver bell.

“i’m sorry i’m late,” said larose, with a most apologetic smile, “but i overslept myself, a thing i very seldom do, for, when upon any case”— he spoke as if it were a good joke —“we detectives are really not supposed to take any sleep at all.”

he had purposely at once brought in his profession, for he had always found that in the easy and informal conversation of a meal, most people would reply more naturally to any questions that were asked, and also, would be much less upon their guard if they had anything to hide.

the housekeeper, miss baines, was a tall, refined-looking woman of good appearance, and she at once took up the conversation.

“we are very glad to know that it is you who are here, mr. larose,” she said quickly and as if she were a little nervous too. “we’ve all heard of you, of course, and it is a great relief to us that her ladyship is in such good hands.”

“but i shall want all the help everyone can give me,” said larose looking intently at the butler, “and the staff ought to be able to help me quite a lot.”

“i’m sure we’ll do our best, sir,” said polkinghorne, uneasy at the hard scrutiny of the detective, “for we know we are all under a cloud.” he looked very troubled. “the gentleman from norwich, sir, will have it that it is one of us who cut those wires, and inspector dollard gave us a terrible gruelling.”

“but it must have been someone who’s well acquainted with the abbey,” said larose sharply, “for he knew where to find that ladder he wanted.”

“that’s true, sir,” admitted the butler gloomily, “and he chose his time well, too. the telephone is used very little in the evening, and that night, except for senator harvey’s trunk call, no one went to it from before six, until her ladyship tried to get the exchange when she came in.”

the detective’s memory was a good one. “the senator was ringing up the chemist, wasn’t he?” he asked with studied carelessness.

“oh! no, sir, it was a trunk call to norwich. i happened to overhear him as he put it in.” the butler smiled. “we have a good chemist in burnham market and don’t need to ring up norwich for anything. we are not so out of the world as all that.”

“ho! ho!” thought the detective. “then i must make an enquiry there. i understood the senator said it was the chemist he had been ringing up.” he looked intently at the butler again. “and you feel quite all right this morning, mr. polkinghorne.

“yes, thank you,” replied the butler. he shook his head disgustedly. “it was very foolish of me to have become faint last night, but until her ladyship spoke, i hadn’t realised in what danger she had really been. it was a great shock to me.” his heavy features lightened. “you see, sir, i was in america with sir charles when he went courting her. i was his valet at the time. i watched it all, and then i even accompanied them upon their honeymoon. then i came here, and the child was born.” his voice quavered. “so you’ll understand, sir, how i feel. i’ve watched her grow up and she has such trust in me. i have a big staff here to look after for her.”

the detective enjoyed his meal, and in rising from the table, remarked upon the beauty of the cat. the butler’s face at once glowed with pleasure. “he’s an aristocrat, sir,” he said enthusiastically, “and he’s been three times champion of norfolk. he’s won seven cups for me, and i have his pedigree right back for eleven generations, to the world champion, assyrian king. he has two wives, sir, marie antoinette and queen of sheba.” he pursed up his lips, and looked very important. “i paid a lot of money for them.”

the detective appeared duly impressed. “but good gracious!” he exclaimed, “why on earth has he got that bell upon his collar. he’ll never get near any mouse.”

the butler looked shocked. “mouse-meat, sir,” he said very gravely, “is bad for his coat, and i put that bell there on purpose, so that he shall never catch any.” he drew himself up proudly. “breeding persians is my hobby, sir, and i have made a great study of it.”

the detective had a very busy morning, and with the notes of naughton jones before him, one by one, went through all the domestic staff. some of the maids, as he had noted upon that first night at dinner, were very pretty, and he congratulated himself upon his judgment when he found that not a few of them were of quite gentle birth. lady ardane was always most particular, the housekeeper told him, and as she paid very high wages, she could pick and choose wherever she wanted to.

and it was the same, he found, with the men. there was not one of them of a coarse type, and he could light on nothing of a suspicious nature in any of their histories or demeanors.

“now,” he asked himself, when the last of them had left the room, “who among these young men and women, for the butler and the housekeeper seem to be the only middle-aged employees here, would be likely to spy upon their mistress and report upon their spying to do her harm?” he thought for a long time, and then shook his head. “not one of them that i can see, for there are none of them of the type.”

he went on. “still, i’ve got a splendid card to play, for i’ll watch in that lumber-room to-night, and very likely catch the spy red-handed. but first i must go there this afternoon and prepare a snug little hiding place among those sacks and tins.”

as with breakfast, he took his early midday dinner in the company of the housekeeper and the butler, and several times during the course of the meal it struck him most forcibly that the latter was now very nervous and uneasy.

the man only pecked at his food, and seemed very preoccupied, and the detective would have sworn that he had some trouble on his mind. he spoke very little, too, and then only when he was directly addressed.

“and i suppose,” thought the detective, “that i upset him this morning by those personal questions that i asked. still, i had to examine him like everyone else, and he’s only just one of the servants to me.”

the meal over and with the butler departing to superintend the serving of the luncheon in the dining-room, larose had quite a long chat with the housekeeper, but the sum-total of all he learnt there seemed to be, as miss patricia howard had stressed to him, that all the eligible men were wanting to marry lady ardane.

“all except sir parry bardell,” said the housekeeper, “and he knows he’s too elderly.” she laughed. “but he acts the part of a watch-dog and keeps the others away. he’s like a father to her ladyship and i don’t know what she’d do without him.”

towards the middle of the afternoon, and with everybody out of the way, the detective set out for the lumber-room to prepare his hiding place for the night.

encountering no one upon his journey, he passed the library and entered the long passage. then just as he arrived at the door of the lumber-room, and was about to turn the handle, he started as if a wasp had stung him, for he had distinctly heard someone moving about inside.

he listened for two seconds to make sure, and then darted on up the passage, and flattened himself against the wall. there was no window anywhere near there, and he was confident that he would not be noticed in the gloom.

a few minutes passed, and he heard the handle of the door turn and then saw a man step into the passage. the man was slow and stealthy in his movements, and shutting the door very softly, he took a key out of his pocket and locked it. then, with head bent and shoulders bowed, he remained standing perfectly still and in the unmistakable attitude of one who was listening. his back was turned towards the detective, and he never once glanced in the direction where the latter was hiding.

then all at once he straightened himself up and tip-toeing swiftly off, disappeared round the corner by the library door.

the detective was dumbfounded, for the man — was polkinghorne, the butler.

“great scot!” he ejaculated, moistening his dry lips with his tongue, “but who would have thought it? the last man i should have picked out as a conspirator!” he shook his head vexatiously. “i can hardly believe it.”

waiting a good two minutes to make certain that the butler was not going to return, larose hastened up to examine the door.

“yes, it’s locked right enough,” he frowned, “and with a darned good lock too. one of those new patent ones with triple springs, and i doubt if i can pick it, without damage which will show.” he made a grimace and then sighed. “well, this is another surprise, and i’ll have to concentrate now upon shadowing this precious butler every moment he’s off duty.” he looked at his watch. “half-past three, and next, i’ll have a little talk with lady ardane.”

he enquired of one of the footmen where lady ardane was, and learning that she was outside in the garden, made his way there to find her. she saw him coming and detached herself at once from her aunt and mrs. charters, with whom she had been talking, and advanced to meet him.

“good afternoon,” she said pleasantly, “i hear you’ve been very busy.”

he nodded. “yes, i have been.” he replied. “i’ve had a talk with everyone of the staff”— he hesitated —“but i can’t say i got much out of it. they all seem all right.”

she looked worried at once. “that’s what i’ve always thought,” she replied. “my enemy cannot be among them.” she was silent for a moment and then asked quickly, “but what is it you want now, mr. larose?”

“a lot of things,” he replied vaguely, and then looked sharply at her, “but i don’t quite know what to make of you.”

she sensed instantly to what he was referring, and her color heightened. “i am very sorry that i had to side with my step-father, mr. larose,” she said, “but there are some things i am not able to explain to you. they are not my secrets, and i can’t tell them to you.” she spoke very firmly. “but you can be quite certain you are not being hindered in any way.”

“well, i don’t like it,” said larose sharply, “for at a time like this there should be no half-confidences. i’m not too popular with some of these gentry here, and they’re taking unpleasant means to let me know it. so anything that would help to put me further on my guard should be told to me.”

she seemed quite distressed. “but i assure you, mr. larose, these things i am not able to tell you are not harmful to you in any way. if they were”— and her bosom rose and fell in her emotion —“i wouldn’t be a party to them for a second and you should be told instantly.”

the detective was impressed by her earnestness. “very well, then,” he said. “i’ll rely upon your common-sense.” he nodded quickly. “but now you’ll have to do something i want you to, and do it without questioning, please.”

“i’ll do it if i can,” she replied submissively, “what is it?”

“it’s about that boudoir of yours,” he said. “i don’t like that room, and it’s been unlucky for us both. things you talked about there have been given away at once, and i’m thinking they got to know who i was from our conversation there, too.” he spoke very solemnly. “so if you please, in future, you’ll say nothing there that everyone may not know about and also”— he hesitated a moment —“i suggest you close the boudoir door whenever you go into your bedroom. you understand?”’

“there doesn’t seem much sense in it,” she replied, “but still i’ll do as you tell me.” she laughed. “i suppose it’s one of your secrets, to pay me back for one of mine.”

for the remainder of that afternoon and during all that evening, taking good care, however, that the man should by no possibility learn that he was being watched, larose kept his eye upon the butler.

but he got absolutely no reward for his pains, for when off duty, polkinghorne never once left the sitting-room which he shared with the housekeeper, being absorbed the whole time in the perusal of a small volume entitled ‘cats and their management in health and diseases.’ at supper he still looked nervous and worried, partaking most sparingly of the excellent fare provided.

one little incident, however, had struck the detective, and that was, when passing through the lounge just before the house party had been summoned into dinner, he had seen polkinghorne and the senator talking very earnestly together. their heads had been almost touching, and polkinghorne had been speaking rapidly as if he had been pouring some very important piece of information in the senator’s ear. then upon one of the ladies coming near to them, they had broken away instantly with the senator’s lips framing what looked very much like the word “hush.”

“gosh!” exclaimed larose, more puzzled than ever, “but that’s funny. it looks as if the senator were in this too!”

just before ten he secreted himself at the end of the passage and prepared to await with all patience the appearance again of the butler at the lumber-room door.

and it was well he had patience for the passage was cold and the time passed very slowly. half-past ten came, eleven and then half-past again. finally, he heard midnight chime without anything happening, and then waiting yet another twenty minutes, he gave up the vigil in disgust and prepared to mount to his room.

he tried the door in passing, but it was still locked.

“but i cannot be mistaken,” he reflected, as he was talking off his clothes, “for if ever i saw stealth and secrecy in a man’s actions, i saw then this afternoon in polkinghorne’s when he was at that lumber-room door.”

the following morning he rose early and descending into the sitting-room a few minutes before half-past seven found only the housekeeper there.

“then mr. polkinghorne’s not down yet!” he remarked. “i was afraid i should be last again.”

“oh! yes. mr. polkinghorne’s down,” replied the housekeeper. “he was here quite a quarter or an hour ago, but he bustled off somewhere in a great hurry,” she smiled, “which is rather unusual, for he is a great one for the morning newspaper.”

the detective rose instantly to his feet and, making the excuse that he had forgotten his handkerchief, hurried away in the direction of the lumber-room.

“and there’s a good chance he’s on the spy,” he panted, “for the nurse will most probably be going to lady ardane’s bedroom every morning about this time, to get the little boy and receive her orders for the day.” he thrilled with excitement. “great scott! if i only catch him coming out.”

and catch him coming out, he did, for he had just reached the door of the lumber-room when it opened and he was face to face with the very startled thomas polkinghorne.

the butler was pale, with staring eyes, and he was breathing quickly, but then before the detective had uttered a single word, and to his great astonishment, the man made a gesture of authority as if he were in command of the situation.

“hush! don’t talk loudly,” he exclaimed. “how is it you have come here?” and he interposed his body to prevent the advance of the detective.

larose gritted his teeth and was upon the very point of gripping the butler by the collar when in an instant the expression upon the latter’s face under went a startled change, and in place of alarm and apprehension, there was now all triumph and delight.

“she’s got five!” he ejaculated. “three tabbies and two toms, and she’s drunk the milk and eaten all the meat i gave her, and the senator is going up to five guineas for one of them.”

“what do you mean?” thundered larose.

“hush! hush!” exclaimed polkinghorne angrily and with all his appearance of alarm coming back, “don’t speak so loudly or you’ll frighten her.” then something in the detective’s face seemed to pull him up and with an effort he became the quiet and respectful butler once again. “it’s marie antoinette, sir,” he exclaimed breathlessly, “and she’s got five kittens. she’s most highly bred, sir, and very temperamental, and a strange voice may upset her. she’s been a great worry to me, for at her last kittening she wouldn’t take any notice of her children, but just left them, and they all died.” he took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat upon his forehead. “she had too many visitors, sir, and that was the trouble, but this time i didn’t let anyone know when she was due, and i brought her here, and not a soul knows where she is.”

then it seemed that, realising he had spoken with some heat in his excitement, he was now anxious to make some atonement for it, and so, stepping back into the lumber-room, he motioned to the detective to enter.

“just one peep, sir,” he whispered. “i think i can allow that.”

and all this time a medley of tumultuous and disturbing thoughts had been rioting through the detective’s brain.

triumph and exaltation, perplexity, profound disappointment, intense disgust with himself, and finally a feeling of real sorrow that he had so misjudged a harmless and very simple-minded man.

so he followed humbly after the butler, and as if greatly appreciative of the honor conferred upon him, gazed with becoming reverence upon a beautiful-looking grey tabby, snugly ensconced in a small packing case.

but he was not allowed to gaze long before the obsession of a breeder of prize persian cats, again mastered the traditional servility of the butler, and polkinghorne plucking him by the sleeve, would have pulled him almost forcibly away.

“but what a funny little room!” exclaimed the detective, beginning now to recover his equanimity, and looking round most interestedly. “and why is that side boarded up?”

“it isn’t boarded up, sir,” replied the butler quickly, and anxious at all costs to get the detective away from the vicinity of his highly-bred and temperamental cat. “some of those planks are loose, and you can get through them into the electric service well, which leads on to the roof.”

“good gracious!” remarked larose. “have you ever been up there?”

“no, sir,” replied polkinghorne. “a least, only part of the way.” he smiled. “i’ve seen the passage and it’s too narrow for a man of my bulk.” he was most respectful. “but if you don’t mind, sir, we’ll come away now and let this little mother be quite quiet.” they proceeded into the passage and the door was very softly locked behind them.

“do you always keep that room locked up?” asked the detective carelessly, as they moved away. “except for that very lovely cat of yours, there doesn’t seem to be anything valuable there.”

“no, sir, it’s never locked in the ordinary way,” replied the butler, “and indeed, i had a great job to rout out the key. but i shall keep it locked now until tomorrow, and then i must move marie antoinette, for the place is much more draughty than i thought.”

he was quite a different man at breakfast, and all his nervousness seemed to have passed away.

“and to think that i wasted all those hours upon him,” sighed the detective under his breath, “and cut short a good night’s rest by at least two hours.”

directly breakfast was over larose set off to see what luck he would have with the strange tenants of the house upon the marsh. he had commissioned young hollins to make some enquiries about them in the village, and had learnt, somewhat to his satisfaction, that although they were known to have been residing in the stone house for more than six weeks, they had never visited the village, and no one had even any idea what they were like in appearance.

“they’re shy birds right enough, sir,” had been the comment of young hollins, “and no one knows, even, exactly how many of them there are there. they’ve got two bicycles, but when they go out on them they wear big scarves and their caps are pulled so low down upon their heads that no one can tell if they are seeing the same ones upon different days. one of them has colored glasses.”

“excellent!” had exclaimed the detective. “they seem the very kind of gentlemen i want, and i’ll go and get as near to them as i can.”

but no one could be more wary and circumspect than was larose when it was necessary, and he fully realised that if these men had anything to do with those he was after, then they would be on guard all the time and on the look out for anyone watching their movements.

added to that, too, if the men did belong to the gang, they would by now be quite aware that he, larose, was in the neighborhood, and doubly on the lookout, in that case for anyone answering to his description.

but of course, he told himself, they might be quite harmless, inoffensive men, and here, as with the butler, he might be wasting all his time. still, he must try and find out something about them, and the difficulty was, he could not approach them openly, and without being seen, would not be able to get nearer to the house than four or five hundred yards.

he made a wide detour round the marsh and approached his objective by way of the line of high sandhills that stretched along the shore. then he lay down among the tall sand-grass and glued his eyes to his binoculars. upon his left, also in good view, was the hut of henrik the fisherman.

there were no signs of life about the stone house, and it looked quite untenanted. the door was shut and no smoke was rising from the chimneys.

for more than two hours he lay motionless. the sky was overcast and a cold east wind was blowing and he was glad of the shelter that the tall grass gave him.

at last, when he had put down his glasses to rest for a moment, and was upon the point of sitting up, to chafe his stiffened limbs, a movement in the distance caught his eye, and he saw a car leaving the bitumen road, about a mile away, and turn off across the marshes.

up went his glasses again. “well, here’s a little diversion anyhow,” he told himself, “if the car even passes right by.”

but he soon saw that the car was not going to pass right by, instead, to his great joy, he saw it make straight for the stone house. it was a touring car, with one man in it, and approaching rapidly and driven with great confidence along the muddy and tortuous road, it was evident that its driver was well acquainted with every dip and corner.

reaching the house, it swept round sharply, stopped, and was then backed smartly into an open shed, that was obviously more accustomed to cows than cars.

then a man sprang out and walked up quickly towards the house door. he had got his back to the detective and was wearing a long overcoat and a cap with carflaps to it, tied under the chin, so that all idea larose could form of him was that he was tall and of a rather slight build. he was carrying a parcel under his arm.

his approach to the house had evidently been noted by someone inside, for before he reached it the door was opened wide. he walked in and the door was now left open.

“and a good thing that i didn’t go straight up,” remarked larose. “fancy! i’ve been here a solid two hours and not seen a sign of life, and yet all the time, perhaps, someone has been watching behind those windows, on the lookout for this chap to arrive.”

ten minutes passed, the door was banged to, and then suddenly the detective saw three men moving away from the back of the house and proceeding along the marsh road in the direction of the bitumen. two of them were pushing bicycles before them, and apparently they were all conversing animatedly together.

larose with his eyes glued to his glasses, followed every step they made until they gained the bitumen road. it was evident, he surmised, that the two with the bicycles were finding the road too muddy to negotiate except on foot. reaching the bitumen road, suddenly the man without a bicycle disappeared, and the other two, mounting their machines, had gone quite three hundred yards away before the detective could see what had happened to him.

the man had squatted low down at the bottom of a thick hedge, and from his attitude it was evident he did not want to be seen by any passers-by upon the road. the detective’s glasses were very good ones, and he saw the man take a newspaper out of his pocket and commence to read.

“good!” he said, “then he’s going stop there some time, and it looks exactly as if he’s on the watch.”

feeling certain that there was no one left in the house, because the door had been banged to in a manner as if to make sure it would shut securely, the detective rose quickly to his feet and made off in its direction.

then, to his amazement, he almost stumbled upon the recumbent figure of henrik, in a thick clump of grass, not twenty yards from where he had been lying.

he swore under his breath, for he realised instantly that the man must have been there all the time and might have been a spectator of all his watching through the binoculars.

but the man was lying in the attitude of one in a profound slumber. he was on his side, his head was buried in the crook of one arm and upon the hand of the other arm, stretched to its full length, was the filthy bandage covering his wound.

taking no risks, the detective bent over him, but henrik was breathing evenly and he stank of rum.

“drunk!” muttered larose. “the filthy beast!”

wasting no further time, the detective ran over to the house, with the full intention of effecting an entrance somewhere.

but he soon found that the idea was not too feasible. both doors had good stout locks that could not be picked all at once, and the windows were all well bolted, indeed, so immovable were the frames there that he was almost of opinion there were screws somewhere inside.

very disgusted, he was about to make a determined attack upon the back door with a piece of stout wire and a pair of pincers that he had brought with him, when pausing for a moment to take a good look all round he thought better of it.

the country was so open and over-looked behind him, and either the admiral with his binoculars, or sir parry with his telescope, if they only happened to be on the lookout, could pick him up as easily as a fly upon the wall. added to that, he noted there was a slight rise in the marsh road, not two hundred yards away, and if the man whom he had seen squatting under the hedge should return unexpectedly, then he, larose, if he were fiddling with the door, would be caught red-handed and without any warning.

so giving up all thoughts of breaking into the house, he went round to the shed where the motor had been garaged.

now it was always the pride of larose that he tried to be most thorough in everything, and that morning after his inspection of that car in the shed he was certain that he had overlooked nothing.

he went over it, discouraged the whole time by the enervating thought that he might perhaps be wasting all his energy upon a perfectly upright and law-abiding man, for, as he told himself many times, he had nothing really tangible against the inmates of the house.

added to that, he was hampered in his investigations by his train of thought being continually broken, when with the passing of every minute, almost, he had to bob out of the shed and look round to make sure that none of the men were returning. he had no mind to be caught there in a trap.

but he reckoned that in the end he had made a good job of it. he took its number, of course, and he was puzzled that he could not get the engine number as well, but the latter he could not find anywhere. he examined all the tyres, noting the condition and approximate age of each one. he crawled underneath and scraped at the different kinds of mud upon the chassis. he tried to estimate about how much petrol had been used from the tank and he poked about in the honeycomb of the radiator.

then the inside of the car came under his inspection, and after he had passed under review the mats and upholstering, one by one, he examined the contents of the pockets in all the doors. he found the remains of some sandwiches, wrapped in a plain white paper, and he even took the trouble to open the sandwiches and find out of what they were made. then he examined the contents of a pocket flask and poured some of it into the palm of his hand. then he looked at some newspapers he found, scrutinising their folds very carefully. then he picked up a pair of almost new fur-lined gloves, and held the palms and fingers up to the light, putting them to his nose and sniffing at them many times.

finally, after a long moment of hesitation, he went quickly through the contents of the tool box. “everything is neat and tidy about this car, and its owner has a methodical mind,” was his final comment. he shook his head in disapproval. “and now i’m going to do him a very dirty trick, if he’s an honest man.”

he bent down and unscrewed the cover of the valve top of one of the back tyres, and putting it in his pocket, proceeded next to let out a little of the air.

“now not too much,” he chided himself, “for he mustn’t notice it until he’s well away from here.”

then, with another sigh, he took the valve top off the spare wheel, and pocketed that too. “and now i’ll be going,” he said, “and i expect it’ll be another long wait before they come back.”

he returned to his former place upon the sandhill and was in part relieved, and in part uneasy, to see that the fisherman had gone. then, settling himself down comfortably into the grass, he prepared to continue his watch, noting with some satisfaction that the man under the hedge by the bitumen road was still in the same position.

suddenly he saw henrik come out of his hut, and with unsteady steps, start to make his way in the direction of the stone house. he was holding a small sack in one hand, a bottle in the other, and half-way upon his journey, stopped to refresh himself with a drink.

at length, reaching the house, he staggered up to the front door and gave it a resounding kick with the evident intention of attracting the attention of anyone inside.

he waited a few moments and then kicked again, repeating the operation at intervals, several times. but the door remained closed, and at last it appeared to dawn upon his fuddled brain that no one could be at home, and so, with the same staggering gait, he started to return to his hut.

passing the open shed, however, the car inside must have caught his eye, and after a long hesitation and some further refreshment from the bottle, he lounged up to it and passed inside. a good five minutes passed, and he was still there.

then larose saw the three men returning along the marsh road and began wondering what would happen when they found henrik in their shed.

but just before they came to the back of their house, henrik emerged again, and now more staggering than ever, plumped himself down upon the ground outside.

one of the men did not come round to the front of the house, but the other two did, and they almost fell over the fisherman as they came round the corner.

the detective saw their faces plainly, but they were both quite unknown to him, and much to his disappointment, neither of them was the square-jawed man, nor, he was sure, the man he had just seen waiting under the hedge. they were evidently the two who had been riding the bicycles.

henrik at once jumped excitedly to his feet, and thrusting his arm into the sack, produced a large fish. he gesticulated wildly and was evidently offering it for sale.

a few words passed between the two men, and then one of them handed something over to henrik, receiving in exchange the fish that was then thrust back into the sack. the fisherman was given a cigarette, and then pushed off unceremoniously towards his hut, with a half-kick to accelerate his progress.

the two men then went into the shed, but almost immediately the detective heard the car being started, and in a few seconds it shot into view and took its way along the marsh road.

only one man, he saw, had been in it, and the other, now emerging from the shed, disappeared round the back of the house.

larose watched the car through his glasses, and noted that, upon gaining the bitumen road, it turned off in a direction exactly opposite to that which had been taken by the bicycles.

his watch over, and waiting a couple of minutes or so until he had seen henrik disappear into his hut, he made his way down the sandhills, and then stood for a few moments taking in his bearings.

“i’ll come here to-night,” he told himself, “and just see what that third chap is like to look at. there are no curtains to their windows, and if they show a glimpse of light, i shall be able to see everything inside.” his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. “of course, he was a long way away, but still i’m half inclined to think that that man under the hedge was not unlike the square-jawed blackguard who grabbed me that night when i fired upon their car.”

then in the same roundabout way that he had come he started upon his journey back to the abbey.

when about half a mile from the abbey grounds he perceived someone walking across the fields in a direction that would eventually bring them together. he did not recognise who it was, until they were much closer to each other, and then he saw it was sir parry.

sir parry had evidently recognised him, too, and waited by a stile for him to come up. “good morning, mr. larose,” he called out cheerfully. “a most unexpected pleasure, and i hope you keep a good lookout to make sure that no one takes a shot at you from behind. i’m glad i’ve met you,” he went on, “for i’ve been waiting to have a little talk with you. now, are you in a great hurry?”

“no,” replied the detective, by no means averse to the meeting, “and i’d like to ask you a few questions, too.”

sir parry looked at his watch. “nearly half-past twelve,” he said, “and you’ll be late for your dinner at the abbey,” he smiled in a most friendly way —“so what about coming into my place and having a refresher and a biscuit?”

“very nice,” replied the detective, “i’m sure i shall be very pleased to.”

“all right, then,” said sir parry, “and i’ll give you the finest of all morning drinks, a goblet of royal shandy.”

“what’s that?” asked larose as they started to walk towards sir parry’s house. “i’ve not heard of it in australia.”

“a small bottle of champagne with a hint of the immortal guinness,” replied sir parry with great reverence. “a beverage that was a favorite with king edward.” he walked briskly forward. “come along, young man, it’s a great treat to me to indulge in it, because of my lumbago, and the very thought of it now makes my mouth water.”