It was not until darkness had fallen that he led the way up the carriage drive to the point they had reached on their earlier excursion. The light still showed in the window, but the cream-coloured blinds were drawn down.
“It is safe up as far as the door,” whispered Elk; “but right and left of that, watch out!”
He had pulled a pair of thick stockings over his shoes, and handed another pair to Dick; and then, with an electric torch in his hand, he began to move along the path which ran parallel with the building. Presently he stopped.
“Step over,” he whispered.
Dick, looking down, saw the black thread traversing the path, and very cautiously avoided the obstacle.
A few more paces, and again Elk stopped and warned Dick to step high, turning to show his light upon the second of the threads, almost invisible even in the powerful glare of the electric lamp. He did not move from where he stood until he had made a careful examination of the path ahead; and it was well that he did so, for the third trip wire was less than two feet from the second.
They were half-an-hour covering the twenty yards which separated them from the window. The night was warm, and one of the casements was open. Elk crept close under the window-sill, his sensitive fingers feeling for the alarm which he expected to find protecting the broad sill. This he discovered and avoided, and, raising his hand, he gently drew aside the window blind.
He saw a large, oaken-panelled room, luxuriously furnished. The wide, open stone fireplace was banked with flowers, and before it, at a small table, sat two men. The first was Balder—unmistakably Balder, and strangely good-looking. Balder’s red nose was no longer red. He was in evening dress and between his teeth was a long amber cigarette-holder.
Dick saw it all, his cheek against Elk’s head, heard the quick intake of the detective’s breath, and then noticed the second man. It was Mr. Maitland.
Mr. Maitland sat, his face in his hands, and Balder was looking at him with a cynical smile.