“Of course, such a proceeding was quite unusual and—er—unbusinesslike,” continued Mr. Sparrow; “but it was scarcely one I could object to. I was the vendor, he the purchaser, and—er—in short, I declined to accept any money, and sent the draft to the George the next morning. It came back in an hour, the deeds were engrossed that afternoon, duly signed, and the money paid.”

“By check?” murmured Miss Amelia, with some shrewdness.

Mr. Sparrow nodded approvingly.

“No, my dear Miss Amelia, for if it had been a check I should probably, as it no doubt occurred to you, have been able to learn something of Mr. Faradeane through his bankers. The money was paid in gold and notes, which are, to all intents and purposes, untraceable. Thank you; one more cup. Two pieces of sugar. Thank you. In gold and notes. So far, I think you will admit, the proceedings were—er—slightly mysterious.”

“Charmingly so,” assented Miss Amelia.

“And they are nothing to what follows,” said Mr. Sparrow, with a knowing nod. “Having obtained possession of The Dell, Mr. Faradeane has had it put in repair throughout, and is now actually residing there!”

“There was only one thing more mysterious he could have been guilty of,” said Olivia, with a smile. “He could have let it!”

“Wait a moment, my dear Miss Olivia,” said Mr. Sparrow. “There is nothing mysterious in his living at The Dell, but the manner of his living. In the first place, he is living there with only one servant—a manservant; in the next, no woman is permitted to pass the gate. I must give it as a fact. Old Mrs. Williams, from the farm, was stopped by the manservant as she was entering the gate with some eggs and butter, and informed, quite civilly, but firmly, that no female would be permitted to enter the premises, and that for the future she must leave her basket outside.”

“Good gra——” gasped Miss Amelia.

“More than that,” continued Mr. Sparrow, in a state of mild excitement; “Mrs. Williams tells me that the place is barricaded as if for a siege, and that a large mastiff is prowling—loose, actually loose!—about the place, day and night.”