"What else, Max?" replied Mr Carlyle, with some indignation. "Well, whatever he wishes to achieve by it I can tell you one thing else that he has done. He has so demoralized Scamp with his confounded kidneys that Elsie's neatly arranged flower-beds--and she took Fountain Cottage principally on account of an unusually large garden--are hopelessly devastated. If she keeps the dog up, the garden is invaded night and day by an army of peregrinating feline marauders that scent the booty from afar. He has gained the everlasting annoyance of an otherwise charming neighbour, Max. Can you tell me what he has achieved by that?" "The everlasting esteem of Scamp probably. Is he a good watch-dog, Louis?" "Good heavens, Max!" exclaimed Mr Carlyle, coming to his feet as though he had the intention of setting out for Groat's Heath then and there, "is it possible that he is planning a burglary?" "Do they keep much of value about the house?" "No," admitted Mr Carlyle, sitting down again with considerable relief. "No, they don't. Bellmark is not particularly well endowed with worldly goods--in fact, between ourselves, Max, Elsie could have done very much better from a strictly social point of view, but he is a thoroughly good fellow and idolizes her. They have no silver worth speaking of, and for the rest--well, just the ordinary petty cash of a frugal young couple." "Then he probably is not planning a burglary. I confess that the idea did not appeal to me. If it is only that, why should he go to the trouble of preparing this particular succulent dish to throw over his neighbour's ground when cold liver would do quite as well?" "If it is not only that, why should he go to the trouble, Max?" "Because by that bait he produces the greatest disturbance of your niece's garden." "And, if sane, why should he wish to do that?" "Because in those conditions he can the more easily obliterate his own traces if he trespasses there at nights." "Well, upon my word, that's drawing a bow at a venture, Max. If it isn't burglary, what motive could the man have for any such nocturnal perambulation?" An expression of suave mischief came into Carrados's usually imperturbable face. "Many imaginable motives surely, Louis. You are a man of the world. Why not to meet a charming little woman----" "No, by gad!" exclaimed the scandalized uncle warmly; "I decline to consider the remotest possibility of that explanation. Elsie----" "Certainly not," interposed Carrados, smothering his quiet laughter. "The maid-servant, of course." Mr Carlyle reined in his indignation and recovered himself with his usual adroitness. "But, you know, that is an atrocious libel, Max," he added. "I never said such a thing. However, is it probable?" "No," admitted Carrados. "I don't think that in the circumstances it is at all probable." "Then where are we, Max?" "A little further than we were at the beginning. Very little.... Are you willing to give me a roving commission to investigate?"