ey's end.

"Now, then, my embryo Vidocq," he began, halting in the shadow of the
wall angle and laying a gentle hand on Dollops's shoulder, "a word or
two with you. I think you told me earlier in the evening that Mr. Narkom
had gone back to town, did you not? Did he say if he'd be returning to
Wimbledon to-night or not? I fancy he will be likely to, considering his
interest in the Claverings, but did he say he would?"

"Yes, sir. Said he'd be back somewheres between nine and ten, sir; that
he'd drop in at the police station, and if there was a need for him, he
said I'd find him there."

"Right you are! Well, there _is_ a need for him, Dollops; for him and
for the limousine, too. So off with you, my boy, and tell him to be
here, at this spot, as quickly as he can; and to be ready when I call
for him. Now then," said Cleek, opening the wall door, "off with you as
fast as you can travel."

For some minutes Cleek stood in deep thought, then he turned and walked
quickly back into the house. He had made up his mind to beard Lord St.
Ulmer in his room, and his quick brain was intent on a plan by which he
should secure an entry. Three minutes later he stood outside the door
and placed a bunch of extinguished matches at the foot of it, while he
called softly but piercingly.

"Lord St. Ulmer! Quick! _Quick!_ _Fire!_ The place is on fire."

His heart pounded as he waited, for if the man were asleep his efforts
would be fruitless. Suddenly, however, there came a faint sound to his
straining ears, and again he whispered in that sibilant whisper:

"Lord St. Ulmer, _fire_!"

He did not have time to repeat it, for there came the sound as of an
extremely agile man leaping from his bed, and another moment he heard
the snick of an unfastened lock, then the door opened.

Cleek waited not a second, his foot was in the narrow aperture, and he
was through the door and had switched on the light before the other man
had realized what had happened. Then he gave vent to a little low laugh
of triumph as with his back against the closed door he surveyed the
white-faced man who had retreated to the middle of the room.

"Good evening! Citizen Paul, good brother Apache, so it is you, is it?"
he said airily. "Let us have a quiet little understanding, _mon ami_.
You need not be distressed. There is no fire. It is merely a bluff.
What! You do not know me. But wait! Look!" The serene face writhed
suddenly, and it was as if another man took his