"What noise?" Cleek's ears pricked up.
"A queer moaning noise, sir. It fair beats me to describe it, but it just lifts the 'air off yer 'ead. You go down the lane past the gates, one dark night, and 'ear that sound. I'll wager yer'd make for the railway station as fast as yer legs could carry yer."
"Hum! now what can that noise be?" Cleek mused. "An old trick to frighten away the superstitious peasants? Old as the hills, that is. I'll hear that noise for myself before I'm many hours older, or I've lost my sense since the Vanishing Cracksman days."
But it was not until the next day that his desire was granted, for Dollops, having been left to himself for a few hours, contrived to get a "scratch meal." This had apparently consisted of pickled walnuts, sheep's feet, steak-and-kidney pudding, and some jam puffs, with an additional helping of nuts as dessert. The effect of this startling combination may be imagined. The result was a fit of indigestion which sent Cleek pounding down the lane at ten o'clock that night to find the nearest doctor. It was not until he was well within sight of Cheyne Court, standing shuttered and dark, that he remembered the innkeeper's words of the morning before. He slackened speed a moment in the dark and all at once, as if from the ground beneath his feet, there issued one of the most horrible and inexplicable sounds that could be imagined. It was neither human nor animal though it contained something of both. No instrument or mechanical thing could possibly have emitted it, and Cleek stood stock still, the very hairs on his head quivering at the sudden unearthly wail. It ceased as quickly as it had begun, and brought back to the immediate needs of his protégé, he went on his way, the memory of that horror-haunting sound still ringing in his ears.
Half an hour later he was back with Dr. Verrall, a stiff and unyielding young man, who evidently held the House of Cheyne and all its ways in the greatest reverence. He refused to discuss the subject of the queer sounds, and as he very soon concocted a nauseous dose that had the desired effect on Dollops, there was nothing else to do but to allow him to proceed on his way home.
On the following day Mr. Narkom arrived at the Hampton Arms. The presence of the great inspector brought Mr. Roberts, bursting with pride to be allowed to speak on any terms with the great official. He clearly had no recollection of ever having seen Mr. George Headland before, and had any one told him that he was in the presence of the very man who had fetched him on a wild-goose chase that night nearly a month before, he would absolutely have refused to believe the evidence of his own senses.
Mr. Narkom, however, listened to all he had to say on the subject of that escapade and commended him for his promptness in obeying the summons.
Another visitor came also to the little inn, and that was Sir Edgar Brenton.
"I am thankful you've come," he said, addressing Mr. Narkom, though he had greeted Mr. Headland civilly beforehand.
"I cannot fathom the mystery at all. I returned to Cheyne Court to make another attempt on the place, but found that the broken window is now barred and shuttered, so there is evidently still someone in the place. Don't you think you could take the law into your own hands and force an entry? Mr. Narkom, when I think that my dear girl may be kept there a prisoner, I go nearly mad with terror of what they may do to her—the devils!"