Cleek: The Man of the Forty Faces | Page 6

him. He will have to be the devil
himself to get away from me! Miss Lorne"--recollecting himself and
bowing apologetically--"I ask your pardon for this strong language--my
temper got the better of my manners."
"It does not matter, Mr. Narkom, so that you preserve my cousin's
wedding-gifts from that appalling man," she answered with a gentle
inclination of the head and with a smile that made the superintendent

think she must certainly be the most beautiful creature in all the world,
it so irradiated her face and added to the magic of her glorious eyes. "It
does not matter what you say, what you do, so long as you accomplish
that."
"And I will accomplish it--as I'm a living man, I will! You may go
home feeling assured of that. Look for my men some time before dusk,
Sir Horace--I will arrive later. They will come in one at a time. See that
they are admitted by the area door, and that, once in, not one of them
leaves the house again before I put in an appearance. I'll look them over
when I arrive to be sure that there's no wolf in sheep's clothing amongst
them. With a fellow like that--a diabolical rascal with a diabolical gift
for impersonation--one can't be too careful. Meantime, it is just as well
not to have confided this news to your daughters, who, naturally, would
be nervous and upset; but I assume that you have taken some one of the
servants into your confidence in order that nobody may pass them and
enter the house under any pretext whatsoever?"
"No, I have not. Miss Lorne advised against it, and, as I am always
guided by her, I said nothing of the matter to anybody."
"Was that wrong, do you think, Mr. Narkom?" queried Ailsa anxiously.
"I feared that if they knew they might lose their heads, and that my
cousins, who are intensely nervous and highly emotional, might hear of
it, and add to our difficulties by becoming hysterical and demanding
our attention at a time when we ought to be giving every moment to
watching for the possible arrival of that man. And as he has always
lived up to the strict letter of his dreadful promises heretofore, I knew
that he was not to be expected before nightfall. Besides, the jewels are
locked up in the safe in Sir Horace's consulting-room, and his assistant,
Mr. Merfroy, has promised not to leave it for one instant before we
return."
"Oh, well, that's all right, then. I dare say there is very little likelihood
of our man getting in whilst you and Sir Horace are here, and taking
such a risk as stopping in the house until nightfall to begin his
operations. Still, it was hardly wise, and I should advise hurrying back
as fast as possible and taking at least one servant--the one you feel least

likely to lose his head--into your confidence, Sir Horace, and putting
him on the watch for my men. Otherwise, keep the matter as quiet as
you have done, and look for me about nine o'clock. And rely upon this
as a certainty: the Vanishing Cracksman will never get away with even
one of those jewels if he enters that house to-night, and never get out of
it unshackled!"
With that, he suavely bowed his visitors out and rang up the pick of his
men without an instant's delay.
Promptly at nine o'clock he arrived, as he had promised, at Wyvern
House, and was shown into Sir Horace's consulting-room, where Sir
Horace himself and Miss Lorne were awaiting him, and keeping close
watch before the locked door of a communicating apartment in which
sat the six men who had preceded him. He went in and put them all and
severally through a rigid examination--pulling their hair and beards,
rubbing their faces with a clean handkerchief in quest of any trace of
"make-up" or disguise of any sort, examining their badges and the
marks on the handcuffs they carried with them to make sure that they
bore the sign which he himself had scratched upon them in the privacy
of his own room a couple of hours ago.
"No mistake about this lot," he announced, with a smile. "Has anybody
else entered or attempted to enter the house?"
"Not a soul," replied Miss Lorne. "I didn't trust anybody to do the
watching, Mr. Narkom--I watched myself."
"Good. Where are the jewels? In that safe?"
"No," replied Sir Horace. "They are to be exhibited in the
picture-gallery for the benefit of the guests at the wedding breakfast
to-morrow, and as Miss Wyvern wished to superintend the arrangement
of them herself, and there would be no time for that in the morning, she
and her sister are in there laying them out