He stopped speaking for a moment and smiled into young Digby's face, stretching out his hand.
"Well," he resumed, "here's luck to your next formula, Captain. And at the same time, here's luck to London as well. For we shan't be having any more of our parks destroyed and our kiddies mutilated for the pride of a lustful nation. Johann was clever enough with his experiments—though God alone knows to what a pitch he might have carried them. But I happened to be up on the outer edge of Totting Common when the centre of it blew up yesterday, with hardly a puff of smoke, either. But when it comes to using innocent human life as an experiment—well, it's beyond the conception of the average man!... Mr. Narkom, whenever you're ready we'll be making tracks. I've an appointment this evening and I'm afraid I shall miss it if we don't hurry. Good-bye, Mrs. Digby. Good-bye, Colonel—and you, too, Captain. Good-bye, all of you."
His hand went out and clasped each hand extended toward him. As Max Brunel's hand met his, he paused a moment.
"If you take my advice, my friend," he said, softly, "you'll never let young Kenneth know of your suspicions of him. I saw it all. I knew, even though you would have shielded him with your own life. But friendship and suspicion can never be in union. Take it from one who knows."
[CHAPTER XXI]
COUNTESS MARAVITZ ENTERTAINS
Upon what small circumstances will great events hinge! It was barely twenty-four hours later when Ailsa Lorne followed Cleek up to town, and together they spent the next few days rioting in shopping. Ailsa was now preparing for an event which would put an end to these delays and separations, and Cleek, set free for the time being from the Yard by an unexpected absence of Mr. Narkom, was as happy as a schoolboy on leave in term-time.
All thoughts of peril from the Apache friends of Margot seemed to have been banished, and possibly the knowledge that Ailsa was shadowed—unknown to her—by two of the Yard's most trusty men whenever he himself was not with her had much to do with Cleek's peace of mind. Strangely enough, his customary fears seemed to have been transferred to Dollops. Ever since the return of Cleek to London, Dollops had grown nervous and worried. His eyes had a strained, hunted look, and even his appetite had lost something of its voracity—a sure sign of trouble. Cleek, however, was too happy to note the trouble of his young satellite, and thus for the first time in their companionship had cause for regret in view of the event to come.