"And now I really must be going," said Mrs. Barraclough at her bedroom door. But she descended again upon her visitors, now purple with exasperation, and possessed herself of their hands. "I have enjoyed your conversation so much, Mr. Ravenscourt, and yours, too, Sergeant Chiswick, but even the best of friends must part; as Anthony used to say when I bought him his first comb. Goodbye--goodbye." She paused dramatically. "Oh, I nearly forgot my salts--my salts. It's most important. The doctor said that I should never go anywhere without my salts." It was only by exercise of something approaching violence that the garrulous old lady was finally induced to enter her bedroom and the door closed upon her. "If ever anyone ought to be certified," declared Harrison Smith blindly. "I am very much obliged to you, gentlemen," said Anthony. "I don't imagine she will be long now." "For everyone's sake I 'ope she ain't," Dirk contributed. But as though to discount this pious ambition came a call from behind the closed door. "Anthony, dear, Anthony! Will you ring the bell for Jane, please?" "The bell is at your elbow," said Anthony. "It is for you to decide, sir, whether it should be rung." Harrison Smith tugged at the bell pull viciously. "And, Anthony, dear, will you bring me my motoring bonnet?" Anthony pointed at the motoring bonnet lying on the table next to the rose basket, wherein, hidden by the stalks and leaves, was the morocco letter case. "Take the damn thing in yourself," said Harrison Smith. It was Dirk who moved forward suspiciously as Barraclough picked up the bonnet and moved toward the bedroom. Harrison Smith waved him back. "There's no other door. Keep a watch on the window," he ordered. Anthony entered unmolested and at precisely that moment Bolt came in from the garden. The united forces did not waste time in greetings. "We've got him," said Harrison Smith. "He's in there with his mother." This was evident enough, for the sound of their voices was audible, Mrs. Barraclough's high pitched tones crying out: "Don't sit on the bed, dear, it creases the quilt." "Better look out," Bolt warned. "He's as slippery as an eel." "Trust me, we're just waiting to get rid of the old woman, and then----" The other door opened and Jane scampered in, crying: "Did 'ee ring, marm, did 'ee ring?" "Put that basket of roses in the car, Jane," Mrs. Barraclough replied, and as Jane turned to obey, from the garden in rushed Flora and Conybeare, calling on their mistress to hasten. "Mrs. Brassbound, Mrs. Brassbound," cried Flora. "There's not a moment to lose." "Terrible bad she is, and cryin' out for 'ee, m'am." In the midst of this confusion appeared a veiled and cloaked figure, apparently belonging to Mrs. Barraclough, who nervously flapped hands and hastened, surrounded by a babbling mob of servitors, toward the nearest window.