he did not,
and as it would be necessary for him to get out after dark and prowl
about the Common to learn if her ladyship did or did not join in the
search for the missing Geoff----Hullo! What the dickens was that?

A very simple thing, indeed, when he came to investigate it. By this
time he had come abreast of the house itself, and was moving along under
the shadow of the deepening twilight when the circumstances which sent
his thoughts off from the plans he was mapping out occurred. It was
nothing more nor less than the fluttering down through the still air of
a soft flaky substance, which struck him in the face and then dropped
softly upon his sleeve--a small charred scrap of burnt paper. He looked
up, and saw that it had fallen from other charred scraps that clung to
the prickly branches of a huge monkey-puzzle tree close to the angle
where a recently added wing joined the main structure of the house.

A window was above that tree, and a chimney was above that window.
Hum-m-m! Second window from the angle--Lord St. Ulmer's room. What was
Lord St. Ulmer burning papers for? What sort of papers had he that it
was necessary for him--a supposed invalid--to get out of bed and
destroy? And why in the world should he choose this particular day to do
it? And a lot of paper, too, by George! judging from the quantity of
charred scraps clinging to that monkey-puzzle. What an ass the man was
to burn things when there was no wind to carry off the ashes and
when---- He looked down and saw one or two half-burned discs of paper,
which had escaped entire destruction, lying upon the gravel of the path.

[Illustration]

He stooped and picked one up. It was a circular white label, printed on
one side and gummed on the other, just the sort of label which chemists
and proprietors of patent ointments use to affix to the lids of the
round tin boxes containing their wares. The thing was partly burnt away
until, from being originally a complete circle, it was now merely a
"half moon" of white paper with charred fragments clinging to the
fire-bitten gap in it.

He turned the thing over and looked at its printed side. Part of that
printing had been destroyed, but there was still enough of it to show
for what the label had been prepared.

Evidently Lord St. Ulmer had been engaged in burning labels, unused
labels, that had been prepared for boxes containing a patent blacking
for boots, shoes, and leather goods generally.

CHAPTER