arette away. He seemed to have
become good-humoured all at once.

"That is good," he exclaimed. "Our patience has been rewarded at last.
Another few minutes and we will go and see what the house has in store
for us. There's the other man."

The motor pulled up opposite No. 100, and two men got out--followed by a
third in clerical costume. The latter seemed to be protesting about
something. As he came up the drive Field stepped out, and the two men
who had engineered the motor car saluted.

"You have done exceedingly well," Field said in a pleased voice. "You
will just stay where you are, because you may be wanted. So you have
brought the gentleman from Edward Street? I telephoned your chief to
make a raid on the place just now."

"But this is an outrage," the clerical figure said in a shaky voice. "To
take a gentleman from his lodgings in that way is something that even
the police----"

"The police are prepared to accept all responsibility," Field said
drily. "There is one little matter that I have to clear up, and that is
your identity. As it is not a cold night you are not likely to suffer
for the want of your wig."

Dexterously Field snatched away wig and hat and glasses, and Richford
stood exposed. He was about to say something when all attention was
arrested by a sound from the house. It was a clear, crisp sound, the
ring of a revolver shot.

"Look to your prisoners!" said Field crisply. "I am going into the
house."

CHAPTER XXXVI

Meanwhile Berrington had stepped aside after having arranged to give
Field the signal. And Berrington had made a discovery, the importance of
which it was impossible to overestimate. For the moment it had almost
deprived him of the power of thinking about anything else, but now it
came to him that Beatrice might be in some little danger.

In the first place, the girl was in possession of a parcel of valuable
diamonds, the possession of which the others knew of and coveted. The
rascals were in a tight place now, and they would not stick at much to
make their escape. If they were short of funds the diamonds in
Beatrice's pocket would come in useful. But Berrington, like the cool
soldier that he was, had decided not to spoil the thing by an eager
haste. There was plenty of assistance outside, and besides, he had a
trusty revolver in his pocket. He stood now in the hall where he was in
a position to hear all that was going on.

Beatrice had rushed to the door and beat