e jeweller I had spoken to in Bond
Street--the man I had taken for the manager, but who was none other than
Mr. Gilling himself!

I saw that all was lost. In a few moments he would come face to face
with Bindo!

In an instant, however, I had made up my mind, and, re-entering the
house, I made my way quickly through into the large hall. But Gilling
was already there, kissing his wife and daughter. I glanced round, but
was reassured to see both Bindo and Sir Charles were absentees. Did they
know of Gilling's impending arrival?

I ran up to the rooms of both my friends, but could not find them. In
Bindo's room a dress-coat had been thrown upon the bed. He had changed
since I had been up there for the books. Alarmed by the news of the
jeweller's arrival, they had, in all probability, changed hurriedly and
slipped away. Therefore I ran down to the car, and, telling Saunders
that I was off to Birmingham and should return on the morrow, I ran
quietly down the long, dark avenue.

From St. Mellions to Harwich, as the crow flies, is about one hundred
and thirty miles. First, however, I went to Northampton, and put the
previous body on the car. Then the road I took was by Huntingdon,
Cambridge, Halstead, and Colchester--in all, about one hundred and
seventy miles. The night was dark, but the roads were in fairly good
condition, therefore I went at as high a speed as I dared, full of
wonder as to what had really happened.

Bindo's dress-coat on the bed showed that he had left, therefore I had
every hope that he had not been recognised by the jeweller. After I had
changed the body at the coachbuilder's at Northampton, the run to the
Essex coast proved an exciting one, for I had one narrow escape at a
level crossing. But to give details of the journey would serve no
purpose. Suffice it to say that I duly arrived at the Great Eastern
Hotel at Parkeston next morning, and registered there in the name of
Parker.

Then I waited in patience until, two days later, I received a note from
Bindo, and met him at some distance from the hotel. His personal
appearance was greatly altered, and he was shabbily dressed as a
chauffeur.

"By Jove!" he said, when we were alone, "we've had a narrow squeak. We
had no idea when Henderson sent that telegram from London calling the
old crone up to town that Gilling had been invited. We only heard of his
impending arrival at the very moment we were bringing off the _coup_.
Then, instead of remaining