Disturbed as he was at this untoward happening, and perhaps a little annoyed at his prophecy to the valet, that they ran practically no risk of interruption, having been falsified, Lane was compensated by the knowledge that he would have the opportunity of observing this young impostor at close quarters, and judging what manner of man he was. If Simmons’s account was correct, he did not resemble his supposed uncle in the more ungracious of his qualities. Young Brookes came into the room and took in the situation at a glance. Sir George’s servant had taken advantage of his master’s absence to ask in an acquaintance; he knew the habits of that master too well to believe that there was any hospitality involved in the invitation. If that had been, or was about to be exercised, it would have to be at Simmons’s own expense. He was an easy-going fellow in many ways, and there was nothing very heinous in such a proceeding. The man had been in the service of well-known people for many years, and had come to his present employer with a most excellent character. He was also a very shrewd fellow and not likely to mix with undesirable associates, much less introduce one of them into a place which contained a good many valuable articles. Probably he would have thought little of the incident but for signs of consternation on the valet’s panic-stricken face. Truth to tell, the unhappy man was so unstrung that he thought it must be as patent to Archie Brookes as it was to his own guilty conscience, that the two men had been engaged in a nefarious enterprise. A look of suspicion gradually stole over the young man’s features, growing deeper as Simmons’s lips stammered forth a few confused words which showed that the man’s mind was in a whirl and he hardly knew what he was saying. “Good evening, Mr. Archie; hardly expected you’d pop in. Sir George left early this morning for the country, didn’t say where he was going. A friend of mine, Mr. Cox, very fond of pictures, been in the line himself at one time, a dealer. I told him Sir George had a few very fine ones, thought he might like to have a peep at ’em. Hope you won’t think I’ve taken too great a liberty, sir.” It was a desperate invention on the part of Simmons, this about the picture-dealing, not a very happy one, the detective thought. But the poor wretch was in too confused a state to think, and said the first thing that suggested itself to him. Archie Brookes looked from one to the other and he did not appear to be quite satisfied. Lane bore himself very well, and his conscience did not prick him in the least. He assumed the stolid demeanour of a man who has nothing to fear, an attitude to which his rather grave countenance lent strong support. If only this white-livered fellow could conceal his tremors, Archie Brookes would suspect nothing; but this was just what the unfortunate valet found it so difficult to do.