vel against the
panes of the window.

"A sign that the coast is quite clear and that you have not been
followed, dear friend," said a voice--Cleek's voice--in reply.
"Shall we not sit down? I'm famishing." And as Narkom turned round
on his heel--with the certainty that no one had entered the room
since the door was closed and he himself before it--the tea cosy
was whipped off by a hand that no longer shook, the waiter's bent
figure straightened, his pale, drawn features writhed, blent, settled
into placid calmness and--the thing was done!

"By all that's wonderful--Cleek!" blurted out Narkom, delightedly,
and lurched toward him.

"Sh-h-h! Gently, gently, my friend," he interposed, putting up a
warning hand. "It is true Dollops has signalled that there is no
one in the vicinity likely to hear, but although the maid is both
deaf and dumb, recollect that Mrs. Condiment is neither; and I have
no more wish for her to discover my real calling than I ever had."

"Mrs. Condiment?" repeated Narkom, sinking his voice, and speaking in
a tone of agitation and amazement. "You don't mean to tell me that
the old woman you employed as housekeeper when you lived in Clarges
Street is here?"

"Certainly; she is the landlady. Her assistant is that same deaf and
dumb maid-of-all-work who worked with her at the old house, and is
sharing with her a sort of 'retirement' here. 'Captain Burbage' set
the pair of them up in business here two days after his departure
from Clarges Street and pays them a monthly wage sufficient to make
up for any lack of 'custom.' All that they are bound to do is to
allow a pensioner of the captain's--a poor old half-witted ex-waiter
called Joseph--to come and go as he will and to gratify a whim for
waiting upon people if he chooses to do so. What's that? No, the
'captain' does not live here. He and his henchman, Dollops, are
supposed to be out of the country. Mrs. Condiment does not know
_where_ he lives--nor will she ever be permitted to do so. You may,
some day, perhaps----that is for the future to decide; but not at
present, my dear friend; it is too risky."

"Why risky, old chap? Surely I can come and go in disguise as I did
in the old days, Cleek? We managed secret visits all right then,
remember."

"Yes--I know. But things have changed, Mr. Narkom. You may disguise
yourself as cleverly as you please, but you can't disguise the red
limousine. It is known and it will be followed; so, until you can get