sappeared," explained her ladyship, noting the manner in which
his glances went flickering about the room, skimming the surface
of all things but settling on none. "Everything, that is, but that
negligee there."

"Wasn't that in the room, then?"

"Oh, yes, but it wasn't on the chair; it was on me. I had come
up to dress for dinner a short time before Henry made his
appearance--indeed, I had only just taken off my street costume
and started to dress when he rapped at the door and implored me to
let him come in and speak to me for a minute or two. 'For God's
sake, mater!' was the way he put it, and as haste seemed to be of
vital importance, I slipped on my negligee and let him in as
quickly as I could. Afterward, when Sir Mawson came in with the
wonderful necklace----"

She stopped abruptly, and her voice seemed to die away in her throat;
and when she spoke again it was in a sort of panic.

"Mr. Cleek!" she cried, "_Mr. Cleek!_ What is it? What's the matter?
Good heavens, Mawson, has the man gone out of his mind?"

In the circumstances the question was an excusable one. A moment
before, she had seen Cleek walk in the most casual manner to the
chair where the lace-clouded negligee hung, had seen him pick it up
to look at the chair seat under it, and was collectedly proceeding
with the account of the events of yesterday, when, without hint or
warning, he suddenly yapped out a sound that was curiously like a
dog that had mastered the trick of human laughter, flung the negligee
from him, dropped on his knees, and was now careering round the
room like a terrier endeavouring to pick up a lost scent--pushing
aside tables, throwing over chairs, and yapping, yapping.

"Cleek, old chap!" It was Narkom that spoke, and the hard, thick
hammering of his heart made his voice shake. "Good lud, man! in the
name of all that's wonderful----"

"Let me alone!" he bit in, irritably. "Of all the asses! Of all the
blind, mutton-headed idiots!" then laughed that curious, uncanny
laugh again, scrambled to his feet and made a headlong bolt for the
door. "Wait for me--all of you--in the music room," he threw back
from the threshold. "Don't stir from it until I come. I want that
fellow Jennifer! I want him _at once_!"

And here, turning sharply on his heel with yet another yapping sound,
he bolted across the passage, ran down the staircase like an escaping
thief, and by the time the others could lock up the boudoir and
get down to the musi