"And you girls," Quest insisted, "go right to your room and rest. I'll come upstairs presently and have a talk. Look after her, Laura," he added, glancing a little anxiously at Lenora. "She has had about as much as she can bear, I think."

The two girls left the room. Quest stood upon the threshold, watching the Sheriff and his prisoners leave the house. The former turned round to wave his adieux to them.

"There's an elderly josser out here," he shouted; "seems to want to come in."

Quest leaned forward and saw the Professor.

"Come right in, Mr. Ashleigh," he invited.

The Professor promptly made his appearance. His coat was ill-brushed and in place of a hat he was wearing a tweed cap which had seen better days.

His expression was almost pathetic.

"My dear Quest," he exclaimed, as he wrung his hand, "my heartiest congratulations! As you know, I always believed in your innocence. I am delighted that it has been proved."

"Come in and sit down, Mr. Ashleigh," Quest invited. "You know the Inspector."

The Professor shook hands with French, and then, feeling that his appearance required some explanation, he took off his cap and looked at it ruefully.

"I am aware," he said, "that this is not a becoming headgear, but I am lost--absolutely lost without my servant. If you would earn my undying grat.i.tude, Mr. Quest, you would clear up the mystery about Craig and restore him to me."

Quest was helping the Inspector to the whisky at the sideboard. He paused to light a cigar before he replied.

"I very much fear, Professor," he observed, "that you will never have Craig back again."

The Professor sank wearily into an easy-chair.

"I will take a little whisky and one of your excellent cigars, Quest," he said. "I must ask you to bear with me if I seem upset. After more than twenty years' service from one whom I have always treated as a friend, this sudden separation, to a man of my age, is somewhat trying. My small comforts are all interfered with. The business of my every-day life is completely upset. I do not allude, as you perceive, Mr. Quest, to the horrible suspicions you seem to have formed of Craig. My own theory is that you have simply frightened him to death."

"All the same," the Inspector remarked thoughtfully, "some one who is still at large committed those murders and stole those jewels. What is your theory about the jewels, Mr. Quest?"

"I haven't had time to frame one yet," the criminologist replied. "You've been keeping me too busy looking after myself. However," he added, "it's time something was done."

He took a magnifying gla.s.s from his pocket and examined very closely the whole of the front of the safe.

"No sign of finger-prints," he muttered. "The person who opened it probably wore gloves."

He fitted the combination and swung open the door. He stood there, for a moment, speechless. Something in his att.i.tude attracted the Inspector's attention.

"What is it, Mr. Quest?" he asked eagerly.

Quest drew a little breath. Exactly facing him, in the spot where the jewels had been, was a small black box. He brought it to the table and removed the lid. Inside was a sheet of paper, which he quickly unfolded.

They all three read the few lines together:--

"Pitted against the inherited cunning of the ages, you have no chance. I will take compa.s.sion upon you. Look in the right-hand drawer of your desk."

Underneath appeared the signature of the Hands. Quest moved like a dream to his cabinet and pulled open the right-hand drawer. He turned around and faced the other two men. In his hand was Mrs. Rheinholdt's necklace!

CHAPTER VIII

THE HOUSE OF MYSTERY

1.

Something in the nature of a conference was proceeding in Quest's study.

The Professor was there, seated in the most comfortable easy-chair, smoking without relish one of his host's best cigars, watching with nervous impatience the closed door. Laura and Lenora were seated at the table, dressed for the street. They had the air of being prepared for some excursion. Quest, realising the Professor's highly-strung state, had left him alone for a few moments and was studying a map of New York. The latter, however, was too ill at ease to keep silent for long.

"Our friend French," he remarked, "gave you no clue, I suppose, as to the direction in which his investigations are leading him?"

Quest glanced up from the map.

"None at all. I know, however, that the house in which Lenora here was confined, is being watched closely."

The Professor glanced towards the table before which Lenora was seated.

"It seems strange," he continued, "that the young lady should have so little to tell us about her incarceration."

Lenora shivered for a moment.

"What could there be to tell," she asked, "except that it was all horrible, and that I felt things--felt dangers--which I couldn't describe."

The Professor gave vent to an impatient little exclamation.

"I am not speaking of fancies," he persisted. "You had food brought to you, for instance. Could you never see the hand which placed it inside your room? Could you hear nothing of the footsteps of the person who brought it? Could you not even surmise whether it was a man or a woman?"

Lenora answered him with an evident effort. She had barely, as yet, recovered from the shock of those awful hours.

"The person who brought me the food," she said, "came at night--never in the daytime. I never heard anything. The most I ever saw was once--I happened to be looking towards the door and I saw a pair of hands--nothing more--setting down a tray. I shrieked and called out. I think that I almost fainted. When I found courage enough to look, there was nothing there but the tray upon the floor."

"You never heard, for instance, the rustling of a gown or the sound of a footstep?" the Professor asked. "You could not even say whether your jailer were man or woman?"

Lenora shook her head.

"All that I ever heard was the opening of the door. All that I ever saw was that pair of hands. One night I fancied--but that must have been a dream!"

"You fancied what?" the Professor persisted.

"That I saw a pair of eyes glaring at me," Lenora replied, "eyes without any human body. I know that I ran round the room, calling out. When I dared to look again, there was nothing there."

The Professor sighed as he turned away.

"It is evident, I am afraid," he said, "that Miss Lenora's evidence will help no one. As an expert in these affairs, Mr. Quest, does it not seem to you that her imprisonment was just a little purposeless? There seems to have been no attempt to harm her in any way whatever, that I can see."

"Whoever took the risk of abducting her," Quest pointed out grimly, "did it for a purpose. That purpose would probably have become developed in course of time. However we look at it, Mr. Ashleigh, there was only one man who must have been anxious to get her out of the way, and that man was Craig."