est had an immediate and almost eager response. For there was
not one of that little band of anxious people who was not glad to be
released from the unpleasant and searching questionings of the Law, as
represented by this bland gentleman of the fine manner and the polished
ways, who seemed, indeed, as good as they were (if not better), and who
met them upon the grounds of an equality which was hardly to be expected
from one of his calling.

Maud and the Captain walked away together conversing in low voices,
their faces grave. Ross, Cynthia Debenham, and Catherine Dowd--lagging a
little behind, and favouring Cleek with a look of venomous hatred cast
back at him over her shoulder as she passed through the open
door--turned toward the terrace, where they all sat down and discussed
the thing from every point of view within their reach, and came to no
definite ending at all; while Lady Paula, summoning Miss McCall with a
regal gesture, rose from her chair, bowed charmingly to each of the two
men left in the room, and withdrew to the safety and peace of her own
boudoir.

When the door had shut upon the last of them, Cleek began pacing the
room excitedly, pulling at his chin and gnawing at his lower lip, which
gestures brought Mr. Narkom to the conclusion that he was indulging in a
"jolly good think!"

"There's more in those letters than meets the eye," Cleek said aloud,
apostrophizing the wall-paper and the fireplace in turn. "H'm. Not a
doubt of it. 'Jeannette.' Something Scotch in the flavour of that, eh,
Mr. Narkom?... Yes, that's my opinion, too. It wouldn't take a hammer
and a nail to drive _that_ fact home, anyhow. And the date of 'em some
seventeen years back.... But it's the 'humming sound' which gets me, I
swear. Can't account for that, anyhow. Might be a dynamo, but there
isn't a dynamo in the place, and no need for it, either. Plain stabbing
and shooting upon the face of it. We'll go for a prowl this afternoon,
old friend, and see what new lands we can discover."

"All right. I'm your man, Cleek--the same as always," returned Mr.
Narkom affectionately, as he slapped Cleek on the shoulder with his
broad hand, and then slipped it about his ally's neck and kept pace with
him up and down the narrow room.

"Anything that's going--with _you_ in it--will find me on the spot, too.
I'm a bit of a slow-mover, I know--but you're such a lightning-bug of a
creature that there's not a soul on earth can keep pace with you. H