"Hear, hear!" murmured Teddy.
"Caw," cried Miss Handyside, "you're simply splendid!"
Caw had not blushed so warmly for many years.
Guidet, pale and perturbed, had taken a little book from his pocket and opened it at a page of tiny figures close-packed. Now he rose. "If I may go to a quiet place for one half-hour, I—I will see if anything can be done, Mr. Craik, but I promise nothings."
"See that Monsieur Guidet has quietness and some refreshment," said Alan to the servant, and the two left the room.
"Let's go for a walk," remarked Teddy. "This clock business is getting on my nerves. I shall never again wear socks with—"
"But I do think," said Marjorie hopefully, "the funny little man means to do something."
Dr. Handyside got up and strolled over to the clock. "Monsieur Guidet," he observed, "has evidently the sensibilities of an artist as well as the ordinary feelings of humanity. Caw has appealed to the latter. If I were you, Alan, I should appeal to the former by suggesting to Guidet the probability of an attack on the clock itself."
On the way out-of-doors, Alan looked into the room where the Frenchman sat staring at a diagram roughly drawn on notepaper. He wagged his head drearily.
"I fear I can do nothings," he sighed.