Dr. Le Guise reported an unfavorable change in his insane patient and forbade them, one and all, to enter his room.

Cora and Davlin protested against the doctor's cruel order, but in vain. Mr. Percy made no objections, but kept his eyes open. One evening, the second of his stay at the manor, he saw, while coming up the stairs with slippered feet, the form of Mr. Davlin as it disappeared around the angle leading to the west wing. Then Mr. Percy stole on until he stood at the door of the wing. Satisfying himself that Davlin was actually within the forbidden room, he waited for nothing further, but glided quietly back to his own door, looking as imperturbable as ever and saying to himself:

"There is a mystery; and we, _rather I_, am not to see Mr. Arthur at present. Well, I don't want to see him; but _I hold the clue_ to your little game, my fair second wife."

Lucian Davlin went to the city, but he did not set a detective on the track of Celine Leroque. He chose his man, one who had served him before, and set him about something quite different. Then he returned, feeling quite satisfied and confident of success.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

A SLIGHT COMPLICATION.

And what of Celine, or Madeline, as we may call her once more?

She had said, when writing to Olive, that her stay in the city must be very brief. But even her strong will could not keep off the light attack of fever that was the result of fatigue and exposure to night breezes. And the morning following her arrival at the villa, found her unable to rise from her bed.

Dr. Vaughan was summoned in haste, and his verdict anxiously waited for. "It was a slight fever attack," he said, "but the wearied-out body must not be hurried. It must rest."

And he forbade Madeline to leave her room for a week at least, unless she wished to bring upon herself a return of her summer's illness.

Much to his surprise and gratification, Madeline did not rebel, but replied, philosophically: "I can't afford to take any risks now; I will be good. But you must watch my interests."

During the first day of her "imprisonment," as she laughingly called it, Clarence and Olive were put in possession of all the facts that had not already been communicated by letter.

Upon one thing they were all agreed, namely, that it would be wise for Clarence to make another journey to Bellair.

"They won't be able to accomplish much during the week that I must remain inactive," said Madeline. "But it will be safest to know just what they are about. Besides, I have reasons for thinking that Henry is growing dissatisfied, and it is to our interest to keep him where he is for the present. Had a suitable opportunity offered, I should have made him aware of my identity. But as it did not present itself, I left it with Hagar to inform him that he was serving me by remaining."

Dr. Vaughan prepared to visit Bellair on the second day after the arrival of Madeline. But almost at the moment of starting there came a summons from one of his patients, who was taken suddenly worse.

Thinking to take a later train he hastened to the sick man; but the hour for the last train arrived and passed, and still he stood at the bedside, battling with death. So it transpired that nearly three days had elapsed since the flitting of Celine Leroque, when Dr. Vaughan entered the train that should deposit him at dusk in the village of Bellair.

It had been prearranged by Madeline and Hagar that, in case of any event which should delay the return of the former on the day appointed, the latter was to visit the post-office and look for tidings through that medium. Madeline had been due at Oakley the day before, and so, of course, to-day Hagar would be in attendance at the office.

Dr. Vaughan had written, at the moment of quitting his office to visit his patient, a hasty supplement to Madeline's letter, stating that he was delayed one train, but not to give him up if he did not appear that evening. He would certainly come on the next day's train.

Clarence was somewhat fatigued as he entered the railway carriage, having spent the entire previous night at the bedside of his patient.

He went forward to the smoking car, thinking to refresh himself with a weed.

Four men were engrossed in a game of cards not far from him. As they became more deeply interested, and their voices more distinct above the roar of the cars, something in the tones of one of the men caught his ear, reminding him of some voice he had sometime heard or known.

The speaker sat with his back to the young man, and nothing of his countenance visible save the tips of two huge ears. These, too, had a familiar look.

Clarence arose and sauntered to the end of the car, in order to get a view of the face that, he felt assured, was not unknown to him.

The man was absorbed in his game and never once glanced up. Our hero having taken a good look at the not very prepossessing face, returned to his seat. He had recognized the man. It was Jarvis, the detective who had been recently employed by him to shadow Lucian Davlin.

It was not a remarkable thing that Jarvis should leave the city on the same train with himself, but the circumstance, nevertheless, set Clarence thinking. Could it be possible that the man had found something to arouse his suspicions, and was he following up the clue on his own account?

Clarence felt an unaccountable desire to know where the detective was going. If he were going to Bellair, then he must be bought over. If he were going to Bellair, he, Clarence, must know it before the village was reached. It was hardly probable that the man's destination was identical with his own, but he had now determined to run no risks.

Throwing back his overcoat, and setting his hat a trifle on one side, Clarence sauntered up to the group of card players, assuming an appearance of interest in the game. As he paused beside them, Jarvis swept away the last trick of a closely-contested game, and then said, consulting his watch the while:

"There's for you! I've got just three-quarters of an hour to clean you out in, so come on."

[Illustration: "Jarvis swept away the last trick of a closely-contested game."--page 324.]

Three-quarters of an hour! The exact time it would take to run to Bellair.

Clarence shifted his position so as to put himself behind the two men seated opposite Jarvis. As he did so, the expert glanced up, encountering the eye of Dr. Vaughan.

"How are you?" said that young man, nonchalantly.

Jarvis shot him a keen glance of intelligence, and replied, in the same off-hand tone: "High, you bet!"

Jarvis was attired like a well-to-do farmer; and Clarence guessed, at a glance, that his three companions were strangers, two of them being commercial tourists, without a doubt, and the third, a ruddy-looking old gent, who might have been anything harmless. Taking his cue from the "make up" of the detective, Clarence, after giving him an expressive glance, said, easily, "Sold your stock?"

Jarvis cocked up one eye as he replied, while shuffling the cards: "Every horn!"

"Want to buy?"

Jarvis looked him straight in the eye. "Want to sell?"

"Yes, rather."

Jarvis dealt round with great precision, and then said: "All right, Cap. I'll talk with you when I get through this game."

Clarence nodded, and presently sauntered away. As soon as his back was turned, Jarvis jerked his thumb toward him, saying, confidentially:

"Young fellow; swell farmer; big stock-raiser." And then he plunged into the game with much enthusiasm.

Clarence resumed his seat and, for a few moments, thought very earnestly. The words of the detective had confirmed his suspicion. He now felt assured that Jarvis was bound for Bellair, and if so he was, no doubt, in the employ of Lucian Davlin, for some unknown purpose.

What that purpose was, he must know at any cost.

By the time his plans were fairly matured, he observed that the group of card-players was breaking up. In another moment, Jarvis lounged lazily along and threw himself down upon the seat beside him.

In little more than half an hour they would be due in Bellair, and what Clarence desired to say must be said quickly. Taking out his cigar-case, he offered the man a weed, which was accepted with alacrity, and while it was being lighted, Clarence said: "Are you especially busy now?"

"N-o; only so-so."

"Learned anything more in regard to my man?"

"Davlin?" interrogatively.

"Yes."

"No," puffing contentedly; "we don't move in a case after it's paid off."