saw nothing of her that day. Nor did he see her the next, nor
the next, nor yet the next again. At first, he began to think that she
must come out and return during the times when he was obliged to go off
guard and get his meal--for he could not bring himself to play the part
of the spy or the common policeman, and filch news from the
servants--but when a week had gone by in this manner, he set all
question upon that point at rest by remaining at his post from sunrise
to ten o'clock at night. She did not appear. He wondered what that
meant--whether it indicated that she had already accepted one of the two
positions, or had gone to stop with her friend on the other side of
Hampstead Heath.

The result of that wondering was that, for the next five days, the
gentleman who was known in Clarges Street as "Captain Horatio Burbage,"
became a regular visitor to the neighbourhood of the house in Bardon
Road. The issue was exactly the same. Miss Lorne did not appear.

He could no longer doubt that she had accepted one or other of the two
positions; but steadfastly refrained from making any personal inquiry.
She would hear of it if anybody called to inquire her whereabouts; and
she would guess who had done it. He would not have her feel that he was
thrusting himself upon her, inquiring about her as one might inquire
about a common servant. If it was her will that he should know, then
that knowledge should come from her, not be picked up as one picks up
clues to missing people of the criminal class.

So then, it was good-bye to Bardon Road, just as it had been good-bye to
Mayfair. He turned his back upon it in the very moment he came to that
conclusion, and had just set his face in the direction of the heath when
he was brought to a standstill by the sound of someone calling out
sharply: "Burbage--I say, Captain Burbage: stop a moment, please." And,
screwing round instantly, he saw a red limousine pelting toward him, and
an excited chauffeur waving a gloved hand.

He knew that red limousine, and he knew that chauffeur. Both belonged to
Mr. Maverick Narkom.

He stood waiting until the motor was abreast of him--had, in fact, come
to a standstill--then spoke in a guarded tone:

"What is it, Lennard?" he asked. "The Yard?"

"Yessir. Young Dollops told us where to look for you. Hop in quickly,
sir. Superintendent inside."

Cleek opened the door of the vehicle at once, stepped in, shut it after
him, and sat down beside Mr. Nark