y
black stream across the leathern top of the table.

"Ah, clumsy!" he cried. "Blotting-paper, quick."

The other took some from a drawer and sopped up the ink. Lepardo rumbled
apologies, and, when the ink had been dried up, made out a cheque for
L28,000, payable to "The Count de Guise, in settlement for the entire
effects contained in his flat, No. 59b Bedford Court Mansions," signed
it "I. Levi," and handed it to de Guise, who was surveying his inky
hands, usually so spotless, with frowning disfavour.

The Count took the cheque, and Lepardo stood up.

"One moment, m'sieur."

Lepardo sat down again.

"You have dated this cheque 1928."

"Ah," cried the other, "always so absent. I had in mind the price,
m'sieur. Believe me, I shall lose on this deal, but no matter. Give it
back to me; I will write out another."

The second cheque made out, correctly, Lepardo shuffled to the door,
refusing de Guise's offer of refreshments. He was about to pass out on
to the landing when:

"Heavens! I am truly an absent fool. I wear my writing glasses and have
left my street glasses on your table. One moment. No, I would not
trouble you."

He shuffled quickly back to the study, to return almost immediately,
glasses in hand.

"Will seven-thirty in the morning be too early for my men to commence an
inventory?"

"Not at all."

"Good night, m'sieur le Comte."

"Good night, M. Levi."

So concluded an act in this strange comedy.

Let us glance for a moment at Thomas Sheard, of the _Gleaner_, who sat
in his study, his head resting upon his clenched hand, his pipe cold.

Twelve o'clock, and the household sleeping. He had spent the early part
of the night at Moorgate Place, had written his account of the murder,
seen it consigned to the machines, and returned wearily home. Now, in
the stillness, he was listening; every belated cab whose passing broke
the silence of the night set his heart beating, for he was
listening--listening for Severac Bablon.

His faith was shaken.

He had been content to know himself the confidant of the man who had
taken from Park Lane to give to the Embankment; of the man who had
kidnapped four great millionaires and compelled them each to bear an
equal share with himself, towards salving a wrecked bank; of the man,
who assisted by M. Lemage, the first detective in Europe, had hoodwinked
Scotland Yard. But the thought that he had called "friend" the man who
had murdered, or caused to be murdered,