glishman, and both were privates in her late
Majesty's army and honourably discharged."

"Cleek, my dear fellow, are you a magician?" said Narkom, sinking
into a chair, overcome.

"Oh, no, my friend, merely a man with a memory, that's all; and I
happen to remember a curious little 'pool' that was made up of eight
men. Five of them are dead. The other three are Juan Alvarez, a
Spaniard, that Lieutenant Edgburn who married and beggared the girl
Captain Barrington-Edwards lost when he was disgraced, and last
of all the ex-Captain Barrington-Edwards himself. Gently, gently, my
friend. Don't excite yourself. All these murders have been committed
with a definite purpose in view, with a devil's instrument, and
for the devil's own stake--riches. Those riches, Mr. Narkom, were
to come in the shape of precious stones, the glorious sapphires of
Ceylon. And five of the eight men who were to reap the harvest of
them died mysteriously in the vicinity of Lemmingham House."

"Cleek! My hat!" Narkom sprang up as he spoke, and then sat down
again in a sort of panic. "And he--Barrington-Edwards, the man that
lives there--_deals_ in precious stones. Then that man----"

"Gently, my friend, gently--don't bang away at the first rabbit that
bolts out of the hole--it may be a wee one and you'll lose the buck
that follows. _Two_ men live in that house, remember; Mr. Archer
Blaine is Mr. Barrington-Edwards' heir as well as his nephew and--who
knows?"

CHAPTER III

"Cinnamon! what a corroboration--what a horrible corroboration!
Cleek, you knock the last prop from under me; you make certain a
thing that I thought was only a woman's wild imaginings," said
Narkom, getting up suddenly, all a-tremble with excitement. "Good
heavens! to have Miss Valmond's story corroborated in this dreadful
way."

"Miss Valmond? Who's she? Any relation to that Miss Rose Valmond
whose name one sees in the papers so frequently in connection with
gifts to Catholic Orphanages and Foundling Homes?"

"The same lady," replied Narkom. "Her charities are numberless,
her life a psalm. I think she has done more good in her simple,
undemonstrative way than half the guilds and missions in London.
She has an independent fortune, and lives, in company with an
invalid and almost imbecile mother, and a brother who is, I am told,
studying for the priesthood, in a beautiful home surrounded by
splendid grounds, the walls of which separate her garden from that
of Lemming