Desmond laughed. “I had to finesse him,” he said. “Old Clubfoot never lets the grass grow under his feet, and I wanted to gain time to get your ikon into a safe place before he could seize it by force. Directly I found out from Krilenko here that this was one of the famous miraculous ikons, I knew, from my experience of Russia, that thousands of copies must be in existence, for most of the ikons you find in Russian churches and homes are copies of these wonder-working pictures. Krilenko, who has been a perfect trump all through, routed up a Russian pope he knows who remembered that there was a copy of the Madonna of Smolensk in one of the Russian churches in London. It was nice and grimy, as it had hung there for years. “Krilenko and the priest did the rest. My intention was to hang up the copy in your boudoir for Clubfoot to steal, for I was virtually certain that your house would be broken into to-night. But, when we were scrambling over the roofs just now, I heard old Grundt’s voice coming up through the skylight and I just couldn’t resist the chance of bluffing him. My word, I could hardly keep my face straight!” He glanced humorously at Patricia. She held out her hand. “I feel just terribly!” she said. “I’m sorry I was so rude! But, oh! what an actor!” Desmond grinned. “It wasn’t bad, was it? Especially the pathetic bit about their being three to one . . .” They all laughed. “In the mean time Grundt is off again!” observed Francis ruefully. “He’s a clever devil!” said Desmond with real admiration in his voice. “He simply bunged up the front door and walked out, knowing that one minute’s grace would be enough to allow him, lame as he is, to get away in the London crowd. Directly you opened the door I bolted down to the street. But I knew it was too late. We’ve just got to wait for him to come back . . .” “He might have shot you!” remarked Francis. “Not he! Clubfoot knows that you can commit almost any crime in London as long as you act normally. But a shot would have aroused the whole block. Besides, he’s a single-minded person. To-day he was after the ikon. Next time it may be you or me. I don’t worry about losing his trail, Francis. He’s coming back after us . . .” He chuckled with infinite relish. “Des.,” said his brother, “tell us the joke!” “Well,” Desmond replied slowly, “when we were weighting that duplicate ikon, I couldn’t resist slipping in a note for Clubfoot. I was just thinking of his face when he reads it!” And he chuckled again. By Patricia Maxwell’s direction the radium, duly tested and found to be genuine, was handed over to the Russian Refugees’ Fund. The ikon of Our Lady of Smolensk went to take the place of the copy in the Russian church, where, night and day, a great candle burns before it in memory of the donor.