“All right,” he said; “you may need it, but we will go quietly to start with. I am going in first. If I don't appear in five minutes come in after me, and don't stick at trifles. I may want you before then, and if I do I will give a sharp whistle, so——”
He rehearsed the whistle under his breath.
Lowther signified his understanding, and stepped back into the shade of one of the brick pillars of the gate as Westerham swung into the garden and ran quickly on silent feet up the steps.
He fumbled for a few moments in the darkness till he found the electric bell. This he pushed, purposely giving the same number of rings which he had heard Melun give knocks on the door at Limehouse.
There was a light in the dining-room window, and a few minutes later the door was quietly opened. Westerham put his foot against it and squeezed inside. The hall was dimly lit, but there was sufficient light to see Patmore's face go white as he realised that he had been fooled.
In a moment Westerham had him pinned against the wall.
“Don't cry out,” he whispered, “or it will be the worse for you.”
With his great strength he pinned Patmore's flabby arms to his side and ran him through the door on the right, which stood open.
Still holding Patmore in his grip, he kicked the door to and thrust him down into a chair.
“Tell me where Lady Kathleen is?” he said in a low, fierce whisper.