girl to smile.

"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered.

"I said it can't be done," the girl drawled, coolly. "Sandow couldn't do
it. The frame is made of iron and it is fixed to the wall by four long
stays. It's a neat job, though I say it myself; I persuaded Lord Littimer
to have it done. And when I heard you two prowling about down there I was
glad. I've got the other one safe."

"Oh, you've got the other one safe?" Henson said, blankly.

He would have liked to have burst out into a torrent of passion, only he
recognised his position. The thing was shamefully funny. It was anything
but nice for a man of his distinguished position to be detected in an act
suspiciously like vulgar burglary. Still, there must be some plausible
way out of the difficulty if he could only think of it. Only this girl
with the quaint, pretty face and spectacles did not look in the least
like a fool. He would have to try what blandishments would do.

"Are you aware who I am?" he asked, blandly.

"What does it matter? I've got the other one, and no doubt he will be
identified by the police. If he doesn't say too much he may get off with
a light sentence. It is quite easy to see that you are the greater
scoundrel of the two."

"My dear young lady, do you actually take me for a burglar?"

There was a note of deep pain in Henson's voice. He had dropped into a
chair again, with a feeling of utter weakness upon him. The girl's
resolute mien and the familiar way in which she handled her revolver
filled him with the deepest apprehension.

"I am a very old friend and relative of Lord Littimer's," he said.

"Oh, indeed. And is the other man a relative of Lord Littimer's also?"

"Oh, why, confound it, yes. The other man, as you call him, is Lord
Littimer's only son."

Christabel glanced at Henson, not without admiration.

"Well, you are certainly a cool hand," she said. "You are two clever
thieves who have come here for the express purpose of robbing Lord
Littimer of one of his art treasures. I happen to catch one, and he
immediately becomes the son of the owner of the place. I am so fortunate
as to bag the other bird, and he resolves himself into a relative of my
host's. And you really expect me to believe a Hans Andersen fairy story
like that!"

"I admit that appearances are against me," Henson said, humbly. "But I am
speaking the truth."

"Oh, indeed. Then why didn't you come in through the front door? The
violent exercise you were ta