CHAPTER XVI

"TENS!"

"Did you see that, Mr. Narkom? Did you see that?" rapped out Cleek excitedly, when—a few minutes later—he stepped free from the detaining bushes and beckoned the Superintendent from his hiding-place. "Recognize the cut of that lady—eh? And notice anything else about her?"

"Only that she looked like that Lady Paula Duggan who was here a few minutes ago," rejoined Mr. Narkom breathlessly. "But what had she got that black thing over her head for?—sort of veil, wasn't it? Couldn't see her face through—and gad! but how lightly she stepped!"

"Rubber shoes, my dear fellow! Where were your eyes?" snapped Cleek with a hasty exclamation. "Off somewhere where she doesn't want to be seen. I'll swear. And as this courtyard leads out into the backwoods of the place, to that forest ridge which girts it about, and thence on to the Great Free Road as it's called, she's meeting someone whom she doesn't want any one to see—and doesn't want to be discovered in the act, either.... Hello! here's Dollops at last! Just the very chap I was wanting. Here, lad, there's work for you. Run along and track down that lady in black who is disappearing so rapidly up there by the right-hand side of the hedge—and keeping pretty close to it, too, for shelter from the watching eye in the household. Gad! lucky thing we came out this way, Mr. Narkom, and caught her napping. She never thought of that, I suppose. Seems a woman of one idea all through, doesn't she? The beautiful, sleepy-eyed cat-creature! I've met her kind before. All purr and softness when she's a friend—and a perfect she-devil when an enemy. Now, then, Dollops, your legs are nimble, so slip up after her, but don't on any account let her know you're doing it. And I'll follow in a moment or two. But don't let her get away without discovering where she's going to. Mr. Narkom, you wait here, will you, and keep watch in case she returns, or any one else in the know follows after, while I nip up to the lady's boudoir, and enquire where she has gone to. I'll dare swear she's 'lying down with a headache and has given orders not to be disturbed.'"

And his imaginings proved to be correct, for that was exactly the case. For Miss McCall, encountered in the outer passage from her lady's room, with coat and hat on, and pulling on a pair of neatly darned cotton gloves, met him, blushed like the timid little thing she was, and answered him in all faith that what she spoke was true.

"Lady Paula? I believe she's lying down, Mr. Deland. She told me on no account to disturb her and to let everyone else know that she wished a couple of hours' quiet," she said in her soft, gentle voice, lifting her timid eyes to his face. "It's been a shock, I suppose"—her face and voice hardened—"but she'll get over it—as she gets over everything else that happens to worry her. She said she'd be down for tea, however; and Master Cyril has gone off with Mr. Duggan and his fiancée for a walk round the laboratory. It's—it's all very sad, Mr. Deland, isn't it?"

"Very," rejoined Cleek. "Very sad, indeed. For a house divided against itself, Miss McCall—you know the rest of the biblical quotation. And I'm afraid that is exactly what will happen in this case.... Oh, well, lying down, is she? Then I won't disturb her. Going out?"

"Yes. Just along to Mr. Tavish's cottage, at the bottom of the drive," she responded a trifle drearily. "Mr. Tavish and I, you know, are—engaged. I have tea with him sometimes, and try to do some of his mending. It's hard for a man to live alone, as he does."