able on duty outside the door, and beckoned hastily to Cleek.

"Your man wants you, Mr. Deland," he said breathlessly. "Says it's
awfully important and must see you at once. He wouldn't come in, but
asked me to tell you, would you come round to the servants' quarters as
soon as you could? He's waiting in the outer courtyard. Ginger-headed
chap by the name of Dollops. I'd only just gone out for a breath of
fresh air before Mother packed me off to bed--ten o'clock is the latest
hour I'm permitted to sit up to. But he seemed so anxious to see you
that I promised to come along at once. It's gone ten now, I think, and
Mother will be after me if I'm not off--she's frightfully particular on
little matters. But the policeman here said you and Mr. Narkom were busy
and were not to be disturbed.... I say! What's the matter with the old
spinning wheel, eh? You seem to be frightfully interested in it!"

"I am--as you say--frightfully," returned Cleek with a smile. "But
nothing of any more consequence than an outsider's interest in something
he knows nothing about. Ever looked at the thing, my boy?"

"Yes--heaps of times. And experimented upon it, too! Tried all sorts of
ways to make it go, until Mother put a stop to my touching it, and said
I should probably hurt myself with the spindle and break the thing."

"Oh, she did, did she? Well, perhaps you might. It's more harmful than
people give it credit for. All right, Cyril; many thanks for telling
me. I'll be along in a moment or two. You'd better get off to bed now,
or Lady Paula will be on your track, I'll swear. Good-night."

"Good-night, Mr. Deland; good-night, Mr. Narkom."

He was off again like a shot, and Cleek could hear his light steps
running down the hallway and up the stairs, like the big child he was.

"Funny thing," he said to Mr. Narkom as the two left the room together
and walked down the corridor toward the servants' quarters, "but that
young gentleman always seems to turn up in the most unforeseen moments.
Notice _his_ fingers, did you, Mr. Narkom? No? Well, they are as
delicate as a woman's and as strong as a man's. Curiously strong for a
fifteen-year-old, I must say. Now, if I didn't know better, I'd lay a
ducat to a dollar that that lad is a good sight cleverer than either you
or I give him credit for, and with his mother's blood in him and a
portion of his rascally grandfather's, too, there's no telling just
exactly where he will end up.... Hello! is that y