f the police. You skipped so suddenly
that you had no time even to think of your personal effects, which you
understood were sold to defray expenses. But they were not sold, as
nobody cared to throw good money after bad. Van Sneck got in with the
agent under pretence of viewing the house, and he saw the picture there."

"Why didn't he take it with him?" Henson asked, with amused scorn. He was
master of himself again and had his nerves well under control.

"Well, that was hardly like Van Sneck. Our friend is nothing if not
diplomatic. But when he did manage to get into the house again the
picture was gone."

"Excellent!" Henson cried. "How dramatic! There is only one thing
required to make the story complete. The picture was taken away by
Hatherly Bell. If you don't bring that in as the _denouement_ I shall be
utterly disappointed."

"You needn't be," Littimer said, coolly. "That is exactly what did
happen."

Henson chuckled again, quite a parody of a chuckle this time. He could
detect the quiet suggestion of triumph in Littimer's voice.

"Did Van Sneck tell you all this?" he asked.

"Not the latter part of it," Littimer replied, "seeing that he was in the
hospital when it happened. But I know it is true because I saw Bell and
David Steel, the novelist, come away from the house, and Bell had the
picture under his arm. And that's why Van Sneck's agent couldn't find it
the second time he went. Check to you, my friend, at any rate. Bell will
go to my father with Rembrandt number two, and compare it with number
one. And then the fat will be in the fire."

Henson yawned affectedly. All the same he was terribly disturbed and
shaken. All he wanted now was to be alone and to think. So far as he
could tell nobody besides Littimer knew anything of the matter. And no
starved, cowed, broken-hearted puppy was ever closer under the heel of
his master than Littimer. He still held all the cards; he still
controlled the fortunes of two ill-starred houses.

"You can leave me now," he said. "I'm tired. I have had a trying day, and
I need sleep; and the sooner you are out of the house the better. For
your own sake and for the sake of those about you, you need not say one
word of this to Enid Henson."

Littimer promised meekly enough. With those eyes blazing upon him he
would have promised anything. We shall see presently what a stupendous
terror Henson had over the younger man, and in what way all the sweetness
and savour of lif