A string of vile expletives followed this statement as the bound man strove feebly to wrench his hand from the firm grasp which held it.
At this, a little cry burst from the lips of Dr. Verrall, and again Cleek smiled.
"You jumped to the conclusion too quickly that it was Miss Jennifer's ring, Doctor," he said, softly. "Not even a strong woman could have subjugated a man like Blake."
Dr. Verrall gave a little groan as he met Cleek's quizzical eyes, but Jennifer, who was standing near, stared at him in open-mouthed amazement. Then she said almost under her breath:
"Oh, Edgar, you thought that I—that it was poor old Dad's ring on my hand. Is that why you wanted me to put it away?"
Swiftly Dr. Verrall turned to her and even as he did so, the attention of the people around was speedily withdrawn, for the door of the room was opened, and Mr. Narkom stood in the doorway.
"Was I right?" said Cleek, a trifle anxiously.
"Right as a trivet," was the complacent reply. "And here she is——"
He stepped aside, and then a cry arose, for framed in the doorway, pale and worn, but otherwise unharmed, stood the missing heiress, Lady Margaret Cheyne herself!
A scramble ensued, but it was Sir Edgar who reached her first, and disregarding the surging crowd around them gathered her bodily into his arms.