Cleek: The Man of the Forty Faces | Page 7

at this moment. As I could
not prevent that without telling them what we have to dread, I did not
protest against it; but if you think it will be safer to return them to the
safe after my daughters have gone to bed, Mr. Narkom--"

"Not at all necessary. If our man gets in, their lying there in full view
like that will prove a tempting bait, and--well, he'll find there's a hook
behind it. I shall be there waiting for him. Now go and join the ladies,
you and Miss Lorne, and act as though nothing out of the common was
in the wind. My men and I will stop here, and you had better put out the
light and lock us in, so that there may be no danger of anybody finding
out that we are here. No doubt Miss Wyvern and her sister will go to
bed earlier than usual on this particular occasion. Let them do so. Send
the servants to bed, too. You and Miss Lorne go to your beds at the
same time as the others--or, at least, let them think that you have done
so; then come down and let us out."
To this Sir Horace assented, and, taking Miss Lorne with him, went at
once to the picture-gallery and joined his daughters, with whom they
remained until eleven o'clock. Promptly at that hour, however, the
house was locked up, the bride-elect and her sister went to bed--the
servants having already gone to theirs--and stillness settled down over
the darkened house. At the end of a dozen minutes, however, it was
faintly disturbed by the sound of slippered feet coming along the
passage outside the consulting-room, then a key slipped into the lock,
the door was opened, the light switched on, and Sir Horace and Miss
Lorne appeared before the eager watchers.
"Now, then, lively, my men--look sharp!" whispered Narkom. "A man
to each window and each staircase, so that nobody may go up or down
or in or out without dropping into the arms of one of you. Confine your
attention to this particular floor, and if you hear anybody coming, lay
low until he's within reach, and you can drop on him before he bolts. Is
this the door of the picture-gallery, Sir Horace?"
"Yes," answered Sir Horace, as he fitted a key to the lock. "But surely
you will need more men than you have brought, Mr. Narkom, if it is
your intention to guard every window individually, for there are four to
this room--see!"
With that he swung open the door, switched on the electric light, and
Narkom fairly blinked at the dazzling sight that confronted him. Three
long tables, laden with crystal and silver, cut glass and jewels, and

running the full length of the room, flashed and scintillated under the
glare of the electric bulbs which encircled the cornice of the gallery,
and clustered in luminous splendour in the crystal and frosted silver of
a huge central chandelier, and spread out on the middle one of these--a
dazzle of splintered rainbows, a very plain of living light--lay caskets
and cases, boxes and trays, containing those royal gifts of which the
newspapers had made so much and the Vanishing Cracksman had
sworn to make so few.
Mr. Narkom went over and stood beside the glittering mass, resting his
hand against the table and feasting his eyes upon all that opulent
splendour.
"God bless my soul! it's superb, it's amazing," he commented. "No
wonder the fellow is willing to take risks for a prize like this. You are a
splendid temptation; a gorgeous bait, you beauties; but the fish that
snaps at you will find that there's a nasty hook underneath in the shape
of Maverick Narkom. Never mind the many windows, Sir Horace. Let
him come in by them, if that's his plan. I'll never leave these things for
one instant between now and the morning. Good night, Miss Lorne. Go
to bed and to sleep--you do the same, Sir Horace. My lay is here!"
With that he stooped and, lifting the long drapery which covered the
table and swept down in heavy folds to the floor, crept out of sight
under it, and let it drop back into place again.
"Switch off the light and go," he called to them in a low-sunk voice.
"Don't worry yourselves, either of you. Go to bed, and to sleep if you
can."
"As if we could," answered Miss Lorne agitatedly. "I shan't be able to
close an eyelid. I'll try, of course, but I know I shall not succeed. Come,
uncle, come! Oh, do be careful, Mr. Narkom; and if that horrible man
does come--"
"I'll have him, so help me God!" he vowed. "Switch off the light, and
shut the