And her whisper was such that he passed the weapon, as it were hypnotically, to her under the blind. And then the blind slipped down, and he could see no more. He heard a shot, and the next thing was that the revolver was pushed back to him, nearly at the level of the floor. 'Wait there!' The sound of her voice, tense and authoritative, came through the slit of the window and thrilled him. 'All is well now, but I will send you a message.' And the window was swiftly closed and a curtain drawn behind the blind. He could hear nothing. He had small intention of obeying her. 'She must have gone in by the servants' entrance,' he argued. 'I should have seen her if she had tried the other.' And he ran to the small door, but it was shut fast. In vain he knocked and shook the handle for several minutes. Then he hastened to the main door on the broad balcony, but that also was impregnable. Should he break a pane? A noise far along the balcony attracted him. He flew towards it, found nothing but a cat purring, and returned. The luscious music of the Tsigane band, one of the nine orchestras which he owned, reached him faintly over the edge of the quadrangle. Then he decidedly did hear human footsteps on the balcony. They were the footsteps of Shawn. 'She's gone, sir. Took the lift, and whizzed off in Mr. Tudor's electric brougham that was waiting.' 'And the men?' he gasped. 'Seen neither of them, sir. She put this note in my hand as she passed me, sir.' CHAPTER VI A LAPSE FROM AN IDEAL 'If you please, sir,' said Simon Shawn, when he brought Hugo's tea the next morning, 'I am informed that a man has secreted himself on the summit of the dome.'