JAMES MERRITT

On the whole Mr. James Merritt, ex-convict and now humanitarian, was
enjoying himself immensely. He did not sleep at the castle, for Lord
Littimer drew the line there, but he contrived to get most of his meals
under that hospitable roof, and spent a deal of time there. It was by no
means the first time he had been "taken up" by the aristocracy since his
conversion, and his shyness was wearing off. Moreover, Henson had given
his henchman strict instructions to keep his eyes open with a view to
getting at the bottom of the Rembrandt mystery.

Still, there is always a crumpled rose-leaf somewhere, and Merritt had
his. A few days after Henson departed so hurriedly from town the stolen
Rembrandt disappeared from Merritt's rooms. Nobody knew anything about
it; the thing had vanished, leaving no trace of the thief behind.
Perhaps Merritt would have been less easy in Littimer's society had he
known that the missing print was securely locked away in the latter's
strong room. Still, had Merritt been acquainted with the classics,
_carpe diem_ would like as not have been his favourite motto. He
declined to worry over the matter until Henson's return. It was not for
him to know, yet, that Chris had actually gone over to Moreton Wells,
and, during the absence of Merritt's landlady, calmly walked into the
house and taken the picture away.

"You are going to see some fun presently," she said, coolly, to the
astonished Littimer, as she laid the missing picture before him. "No, I
shall not tell you anything more at present. You shall hear the whole
story when Reginald Henson stands in the pillory before you. You know now
that Henson was at the bottom of the plot to destroy Dr. Bell's
character?"

"I always felt that our Reginald was a great scoundrel," Littimer
purred over his cigarette. "And if you succeed in exposing him
thoroughly I shall watch the performance with the greatest possible
pleasure. I am not curious, my dear young lady, but I would give
sixpence to know who you are."

"Keep your sixpence," Chris laughed, "and you'll know all in good time.
All I ask is not to be astonished at anything that happens."

Littimer averred that he had long since lost the power of astonishment.
There was a brightness and restlessness about Chris to-day that
considerably added to her charms. It was nearly a week now since Bell and
Henson had departed, and in the meantime Chris had heard nothing from
Longdean. Half an hour