Inspector Lyle from above saw the blade fall, heard the indescribable sound of the thud that followed, and almost swooned. Then, from below:
“It’s all right, inspector. You may find a rope in the buffet. Get down as quickly as you can and bring a gun.”
The buffet cupboard contained another rope, and a minute later the detective was going down hand over hand.
“There’s no danger from the monkey,” said Michael.
Bhag was crooning over his senseless master, as a mother over her child.
“Get Miss Leamington away,” said Michael in a low voice, as the detective began to unlock the handcuffs.
The girl lay, an inanimate and silent figure, by the side of the guillotine, happily oblivious of the tragedy which had been enacted in her presence. Another detective had descended the rope, and old Jack Knebworth, despite his years, was the third to enter the cave. It was he who found the door, and aided the detective to carry the girl to safety.
Unlocking the handcuffs from the baronet’s wrists, Michael turned him over on his back. One glance at the face told the detective that the man was in a fit, and that his case, if not hopeless, was at least desperate. As though understanding that the man had no ill intent toward his master, Bhag watched passively, and then Michael remembered how, the first time he had seen the great ape, Bhag had smelt his hands.
“He’s filing you for future reference as a friend,” had said Gregory at the time.
“Pick him up,” said Michael, speaking distinctly in the manner that Gregory had addressed the ape.