“Yes, yes, I know you said so, but—will he? He looks a sturdy, straightgoing, honest sort of chap who couldn’t be coaxed or bribed into backing up a lie; so send him in as you go out, Mr. Narkom; we’ll see what he has to say.”

What he had to say when he came in a few moments later was what Miss Renfrew had declared—an exact corroboration of her statement. He had seen a man whom he fancied was Sir Ralph Droger run out of the grounds, and he had suggested to Miss Renfrew that they had better look into the Round House and see if all was right with Mr. Nosworth. They had looked in as she had said; and Mr. Nosworth had called out and asked her what the devil she was coming in and disturbing him for, and it was a quarter to eight o’clock exactly.

“Sure about that, are you?” questioned Cleek.

“Yes, sir, sure as that I’m telling you so this minute.”

“How do you fix the exact time?”

“As we came out of the covered passage Miss Renfrew looked at her wrist-watch and says, impatient like, ‘There, I’ve lost another two minutes and am that much later for nothing. See! It’s a quarter to eight. Good night.’ Then she cut off over the grounds and leaves me.”

“La! la!” exclaimed Mrs. Armroyd approvingly. “There’s the brave heart, to come to mademoiselle’s rescue so gallantly. But, yes, I make you the cake of plums for that, mon cher. Monsieur of the yard of Scotland, he can no more torture the poor stricken child after that—not he.”

But Cleek appeared to be less easy to convince than she had hoped, for he pursued the subject still; questioning Gorham to needless length it seemed; trying his best to trip him up, to shake his statement, but always failing; and, indeed, going over the same ground to such length that one might have thought he was endeavouring to gain time. If he was, he certainly succeeded; for it was quite fifteen minutes later when Mr. Narkom returned to the Round House, and he was at it still. Indeed, he did not conclude to give it up as a bad job until the superintendent came.

“Get it off all right, did you, Mr. Narkom?” he asked, glancing round as he heard him enter.

“Quite all right, old chap. Right as rain—in every particular.”