The poor woman’s incapacity for supervising the daily routine of her household was not feigned. She was really so ill and upset that I advised her to put herself under the care of the family doctor, who would give her something to quieten her nerves. Meanwhile, if she would lie down and rest, I told her, I would see that things were so conducted in the kitchen and elsewhere that Mr Flowers should miss none of his accustomed comforts.
It was with a sigh of satisfaction that she yielded herself to my arrangement, and I also found the servants easy to cope with. The principal topic of conversation both in parlours and kitchens was the facility with which it seemed possible for somebody or other to take what they pleased out of the house. Before bed time I had gleaned every possible item of information relating to the mystery, and had formed my theory as to the true state of things.
After office hours Mr Flowers fastened his lower premises up with all possible care, and as soon as I could do so without being observed by the servants, I carefully examined all the fastenings, and satisfied myself that the individual who entered from without would be very clever indeed. He would, in fact, have to be of the shadowy nature attributed to the thieves by the housemaid.
At twelve o’clock everyone in the house, except myself, had gone to bed. But so far from retiring to rest myself, I had resolved to keep careful watch all night. I had wrapped a thick woollen shawl round my shoulders, and stationed myself so that I commanded a full view of the doors leading from the various bedrooms. Lest I should be observed myself, I took advantage of a portiere which shrouded a recess used as a wardrobe, and anxiously kept the stairhead in sight.
I am not of a nervous disposition. But I confess I felt a “wee bit eerie” as the big hall clock chimed the hours and half hours, while all else in the house was as still as death. It was therefore with an intense feeling of thankfulness that I at last saw Mr Flowers emerge slowly but cautiously from his bedroom, carrying in one hand a bunch of keys, and in the other a lighted candle. He went straight downstairs, and, holding my very breath through fear of betraying my presence, I followed him from the bedroom floor, to the drawing-room floor, thence further downstairs to the basement. Finally, walking with a strange rigidity which would have struck me as awesome had I not conjectured its cause, he preceded me into the cellars which underlay the whole building.
A minute or two later he was opening an old disused cupboard, into which I saw him place two rings that he had brought downstairs with him. It was a clear case of somnambulism. But I dare not wake him there and then. Only pausing for an instant to consider what was best to be done next, I noiselessly hurried upstairs, entered Mrs Flowers’s bedroom, and roused her from a heavy slumber. I had scarcely succeeded in making her understand me when we heard her husband coming upstairs again. Almost beside herself with alarm, she jumped out of bed, and, in spite of my caution, gave a loud scream when she saw the glassy and expressionless look in her husband’s eyes.
A moment later there was a somewhat wild scene between the two, for Mr Flowers was rudely awakened, and could not understand my presence in his bedroom at first. When at last he was made to comprehend the state of affairs he expressed himself determined to get to the bottom of the mystery at once. I retired until the pair had arrayed themselves more decorously. Then the three of us explored the cellar cupboard together, and just as I had expected, we found all the precious things which Mr Flowers’s anxiety had caused his sleeping senses to put in a place of safety, of which he had no recollection when awake.
The shock of his sudden awakening did him no harm. But it cured his somnambulistic tendencies, and there have been no further supposed robberies from 15, Kite-street.
THE END