At the corner he stopped his driver and gave him some instructions in a low voice. Having done so, he walked along the pavement as far as No. 14, where he came to a standstill. As on the last occasion that he had surveyed the house, there were lights in three of the windows, and from this illumination he argued that his men were at home. Without hesitation he went up the steps and rang the bell. Before he could have counted fifty it was opened by Mrs. Jeffreys herself, who looked suspiciously at the person she saw before her. It was evident that in the tall, well-made man with iron-grey moustache and dark hair, she did not recognize her elderly acquaintance, Klimo, the detective. "Are you Mrs. Jeffreys?" asked the new-comer, in a low voice. "I am," she answered. "Pray, what can I do for you?" "I was told by a friend to give you this card." He thereupon handed to her a card on which was written the one word "Klimo." She glanced at it, and, as if that magic name were sufficient to settle every doubt, beckoned to him to follow her. Having softly closed the door she led him down the passage until she arrived at a door on her right hand. This she opened and signed to him to enter. It was a room that was half office half library. "I am to understand that you come from Mr. Klimo?" she said, trembling under the intensity of her emotion. "What am I to do?" "First be as calm as you can. Then tell me where the men are with whom I have to deal." "They are having their supper in the dining-room. They went out soon after luncheon, and only returned an hour ago." "Very good. Now, if you will conduct me upstairs, I shall be glad to see if your father is well enough to sign a document I have brought with me. Nothing can be done until I have arranged that." "If you will come with me I will take you to him. But we must go quietly, for the men are so suspicious that they send for me to know the meaning of every sound. I was dreadfully afraid your ring would bring them out into the hall." Leading the way up the stairs she conducted him to a room on the first floor, the door of which she opened carefully. On entering, Carne found himself in a well-furnished bedroom. A bed stood in the center of the room, and on this lay a man. In the dim light, for the gas was turned down till it showed scarcely a glimmer, he looked more like a skeleton than a human being. A long white beard lay upon the coverlet, his hair was of the same color, and the pallor of his skin more than matched both. That he was conscious was shown by the question he addressed to his daughter as they entered. "What is it, Eileen?" he asked faintly. "Who is this gentleman, and why does he come to see me?" "He is a friend, father," she answered. "One who has come to save us from these wicked men." "God bless you, sir," said the invalid, and as he spoke he made as if he would shake him by the hand. Carne, however, checked him.